


The Spider and the Beast

by ChazMoon123



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Aged up characters, M/M, Mention of blood, Mutual Pining, i have no clue what i'm doing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2019-10-03 12:05:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17283764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChazMoon123/pseuds/ChazMoon123
Summary: He wasn't the type. He killed thugs more often than not. He had no patience for the honorable shit Daredevil was pulling off by not killing bad guys.And yet, when he was met with the previously mentioned spiderguy seemingly bleeding out on the floor of a dark alley, he couldn't help himself. He just had to help.





	1. Chapter 1

Frank pulled his jacket more securely around himself and quickened his footsteps.

He fucking hated walking around the creepy backstreets of New York. Brooklyn was tamer compared to Hell's Kitchen but there were still a lot of creeps lurking in the dark alleyways. He always came across some rapists and muggers he took great pleasure in knocking out. Sometimes he maybe even slipped a knife in the rapist's gut for good measure. And if the bastard bled out, who knew. New York is a crazy city afterall.

No, there is barely anything that surprises him anymore, really. His run-in with the Daredevil guy, the rumors about some other guy running around with bulletproof skin in Harlem and another one with a glowing fist? What was a guy swinging on spiderwebs through the city for Frank? Not any more weird than the rest of these self proclaimed heroes.

And sure. Frank knew he really had no right to judge these people. Hell, he should be in jail. Or dead. Or both at the same time. Fuck it. Even when frightened victims thanked him for beating up their attackers he just grunted something like "Call the cops." and left. He wasn't the type. He killed thugs more often than not. He had no patience for the honorable shit Daredevil was pulling off by not killing bad guys.

And yet, when he was met with the previously mentioned spiderguy seemingly bleeding out on the floor of a dark alley, he couldn't help himself. He just had to help.

Why?

He had no idea really. All he knew was that the guy looked small, he had a gaping gunshot wound on his side that was steadily bleeding, and Frank found himself unable to turn away.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Peter was careless that night. But seriously, when wasn't he these days?

In the morning he made a detour at a bank to stop some guys robbing it and got late from school. Again. He almost fell asleep in class and spent lunch period trying to do the homework he should have completed the previous night. Needless to say, he hadn't been at home the previous night. He spent most of it swinging around Queens, sometimes venturing into Manhattan.

So yeah. Peter wasn't very collected to begin with. Getting shot for not paying attention, well, that was probably due to his lack of sleep and too much caffein in his system. It was somewhat understandable, studying for exams and getting ready to graduate was important in his senior year. But his Spiderman business wasn't helping anything along.

He had argued over this with May way too much. In the end she agreed to let him do whatever he wanted in his spare time, as long as things went well in school. He was 18 years old now, and she was willing to keep him on a longer leash. Tony...he wasn't around as much as he used to. He still kept an eye on Peter, but hanging out with the teen wasn't something he did often anymore. And Peter understood. Tony married Pepper, possibly planning to have kids. It still hurt though.

Peter had problems with keeping his end of the agreement though. His grades weren't slipping (yet) but he had problems juggling that and his hero duties. He called them duties, but they were more of a public service thing. Nobody asked him to patrol the city at night or after school, nobody asked him to stop robberies, nobody asked him to rescue people from fires or stop muggers. It was just what he felt like his duty was as the friendly neighbourhood Spiderman.

Getting shot, that wasn't one of his duties as far as he was concerned. It still happened though. One second he was confronting a mugger, the next second he heard a gun go off and felt agonizing pain in his side. The mugger ran off and left him sprawled out on the ground. He could only stay conscious for a few seconds, and then the world went dark around him. As the darkness swallowed him, he knew it was all his fault. He shouldn't have come out. But then who would have died instead of him?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The guy wasn't heavy in his arms. His slender frame held a large mass of muscle, but Frank still had no problem carrying him. He knew he couldn't take the masked hero to a hospital. He wouldn't appreciate being discovered like that either, but he was losing blood and he felt colder against Frank's chest by the second.

His first thought was Karen, but he dismissed that thought quickly. Daredevil had a nurse friend...Claire? No, he shouldn't bother her either.

He slipped into his apartment building quickly and took the steps as quietly and swiftly as possible. Once inside his apartment he set Spiderman gently on his couch and inspected the wound.

The bullet went through and came out clean. That was good. The bleeding hadn't worsened much, and the wound wasn't in a place that could have been an important organ or blood supply. Frank frowned and shook his head. The guy was lucky.

He got up and went to fetch a towel, clean water and a medical kit. He hesitated as his hands hovered over the hero's spandex clad body. Should he remove the mask? Should he remove the suit? Neither option seemed right. But he had to clean the wound.

He muttered an apology under his breath as he peeled off the upper half of the suit to the guy's waistline. Frank's first thought was how pale he looked. Sure, he had lost some blood but still, his skin looked so white. Lithe body and sculpted muscles, no unnecessary amount of fat, smooth where his fingers brushed the fair skin.

He shook himself mentally and began to clean the bloody skin around the wound with careful hands, inspecting the injured tissue. Frank shook his head grimly. It had been a while since he had to patch up somebody, dress bullet caused tissue damage that wasn't his own. The hero twitched under his hands when he attempted to clean inside the wound and prevent infection. Frank bandaged him the best he could, surprised to find that the injury was healing fast already. How convenient.

He wasn't sure what to do next though. He hadn't thought that much ahead. He had the guy patched up, half naked on his couch. The latter was an afterthought, though something to consider. Should Frank dress him into something more clean? That seemed logical.

Thank gods, Frank thought as he peeled off the rest of the suit and saw that the hero wore boxers under his suit. He quickly set the dirty thing aside and dressed Spiderman into a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. (He decided not to touch the weird gadgets on his wrists.) It looked kind of strange with the mask still on, but that wasn't important. In Frank's way too big clothes the hero looked even smaller, almost like a kid.

How old is he? Frank thought absently as he put away the stuff he had used to clean the wound and got rid of the dirty water.

After some arguments with himself Frank decided to put Spiderman in his bed instead. The guy deserved that bit of comfort after being shot and all...and for everything else, Frank guessed. Spiderman was a good guy, always there to help ordinary citizens as far as he could hear from the news. He could respect that. He was the kind of man Frank could never be.

Frank placed a clean towel under him for safety and then tucked him comfortably under the covers of his bed. It wasn't the nicest thing ever, but it was clean and warm. By the time he put away everything and had showered himself, it was well over midnight. He felt drained and way too old to be doing this stuff, but his dreams only promised dark memories of his missions and the death of his family, so he spent some time reading a book until he fell asleep on the couch. His sleep was restless though, twisting and turning as the couch dug into his back.

He really should have taken the bed instead.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Peter came to at first slowly, vision splotchy and swimming with dark spots, but as soon as his mind caught up, his breath hitched and the small hairs on his body stood on alert.

He wasn't in his own bedroom. In his own bed. He was in a stranger's house.

He sat up sharply, immediately regretting it as piercing, almost blinding pain shot up his side. He hissed and groaned low in his throat, hand coming up to his injured side.

His heart skipped a beat the moment he saw his hand.

Somebody had taken off his suit.

He scrambled to pull off the covers from around his waist and stood, breaths coming short as he fought down a bubbling panic attack. He ran his hands over his face, relieved to find his mask still on, despite already having felt it and acknowledged it somewhere in the back of his scattered mind.

He looked down at himself, pulling at the hem of the oversized T-shirt he was wearing, plain black with a giant skull printed on it. The too big sweatpants hang off of his lower body too much, only held in place by the tighter ends of the legs and the securely tied up waistband. His feet were bare, getting cold. His arms were covered in goosebumps as he hugged himself waryly.

He looked around, suspicious. It looked like a simple bedroom in a basic rented apartment. One bathroom, one wardrobe and one bed with a nightstand. There were no personal items, just a glass of water and a white pill on the nightstand. Peter took the glass and the pill against his better judgement and swallowed both quickly.

He pulled up the shirt enough to see that his wounds were wrapped up, though it clearly had bled through the night.

He frowned. Whose apartment was he in?

Peter almost jumped up on the ceiling as he suddenly heard footsteps somewhere in the apartment. He held his breath and took cautious steps to the closed door, twisting the doorknob to pull it open as quietly as possible.

The door creaked open loudly of course.

There was no going back though. Peter stepped out of the room and came face to face with the person who had saved him.

"You are awake."

Peter would have answered him, but he was too caught up on the fact that Frank freaking Castle was standing right in front of him! In all his glory, dressed in a rugged T-shirt similar to what Peter was wearing and a dark pair of jeans.

"You--...You are Frank Castle." Peter answered finally, very observant, in his breathy tone. He registered that he should be wary of him, of the things that he had done, the people he had killed, but his spidey sense was oddly quiet. Maybe it was the bloodloss, he reasoned.

"Yeah." Frank nodded gruffly and crossed his arms "The guy who dragged you off the street while you bled on my favourite shirt."

Peter felt his face burn hot to the tips of his ears. He must have sounded really ungrateful.

"I-I'm sorry. You're right. Thank you for saving me." he stammered out, flushed in shame. Frank huffed and uncrossed his arms, which Peter definitely didn't look at or admire in any way.

"How's the wound?" Frank ran his gaze over the small form of the hero. Peter resisted the urge to squirm.

"Hurts. But I can feel that it's getting better."

"Have you taken the painkillers?" Peter nodded. "Good. Do you want something to eat?"

Peter frowned as Frank turned his back to him and walked to the counter in the small corner kitchen. He followed the older man and was surprised to see on a small digital clock that it was over 9 am already. The bloodloss must have been bad to knock him out so hard.

"There isn't that much I can offer," Frank spoke absently as he looked through the contents of his fridge "But I can make you an omlette and cut up some bread."

"Y-Yeah. That would be really nice."

What was going on? Peter was really confused. Frank Castle was breaking up, mixing and seasoning eggs for him while he sat by the dining table a few feet away from a mass murderer. Said murderer and ex soldier was acting like this was something normal. Like saving masked heroes was something people did often and would use as topic for smalltalk. Utterly bizarre.

"You are thinking way too loudly." Peter jumped a little as Frank's gruff voice cut into the silence.

"S-Sorry."

Frank chuckled darkly at that, carrying the pan he had been cooking eggs in over to slide the finished omlette on the plate set in front of Peter. The scent of freshly cooked eggs entered Peter's nostrils almost instantly, reminding him how hungry he had been all along, his stomach making impatient noises at being empty.

"I'm just teasing you kid. Dig in." Frank gestured, sitting across from him at the table. Peter thought nothing about it as he rolled up his mask to his nose and began to stuff eggs and cut up bread into his mouth.

"This is really good." Peter moaned between biting and swallowing.

"Well, I'm not much of a cook but I can make decent eggs." Peter flushed again, taking notice of Frank's amused tone and the fact that he was acting very embarrassingly like a child. He swallowed the food in his mouth and slowed his hands.

"So, uh. My memory is a bit off. Where did you find me?" Peter asked timidly. He remembered of course, but he was no good at making small talk and this was the only thing he could think of.

"In Brooklyn. In the alley next to a Chinese place. Suprisingly. I thought you were most active in Queens." Peter was a bit pleased by the fact that Frank was answering him.

"Yeah. Most of the time I am. It has just been quiet in Queens recently so I decided to take a detour. Didn't quite work out." Peter couldn't help but add bitterly, mouth pulled back in a frown. He took another bite of the eggs and chewed angrily, upset with himself.

"It was a clean shot. Could have a been a lot worse." Frank offered.

"I guess..." Peter stole a glance at the man's face before he went back to finishing his breakfast. He felt very awkward after thanking Frank for the meal and waiting for him to wash the dishes, standing in the livingroom area by the couch.

He looked around, but there wasn't much to see. There wasn't even a TV in the room. Just shelves stacked with books on various topics. There were some Peter had read and liked a lot, but a lot of them were fiction about war, biographies and documentations. Mostly fantasy and classics besides that. Even books on psychological topics. The spine of a book discussing PTSD caught Peter's eyes before his attention snapped to Frank leaving the kitchen to join him.

"Nice collection." Peter gestured at the books.

"Thanks." Frank nodded "Your suit is a wreck but I have it folded up in the bathroom."

"Oh. Right." Peter almost felt disappointed that he had to leave. The warm meal in his stomach and the tired ache of his muscles made him feel very reluctant to do anything, but he knew he couldn't outstay his host's welcome.

"Want me to look at the wound first?" Peter blinked in surprise at the offer. Should he say yes? Probably not.

"I would appreciate that." he answered anyway. Who cares? He will probably never see Frank Castle again.

"C'mon then."

Peter sat on the couch and pulled the dark T-shirt over his head. He sucked in a breath when Frank carefully peeled off the bandages to look at the wound, then held back a whine as Frank cleaned the injury again.

"Looks fine to me. Doesn't seem infected or anything. The bleeding has stopped and the missing tissue has started to fill in." Frank spoke lowly as he wrapped Peter's waist with clean bandages. It felt oddly nice to have Frank's calloused hands over his skin, but he did his best to ignore that.

"Doesn't hurt as much now. Thanks."

"No problem."

Peter took the discarded shirt back in his hand and fiddled with it as Frank cleaned up and put his medical kit away. Should he just take his suit and leave? That seemed like the logical thing to do.

"The bathroom is right there. You can just leave the clothes on the floor." the older man instructed, pointing at the open door across the bedroom Peter woke up in.

"Okay, thank you." Peter hurriedly ducked into the bathroom and pulled the door closed behind himself. It was kind of pointless, he thought. Frank had already seen him almost naked, he even dressed him into his own clothes. The thought made warmth spread over Peter's skin. Why did self righteous killers have to be handsome buff men with gruff and low voices? He blamed his teenage hormones.

Frank hadn't been kidding though. His suit was a hot mess. Blood had seeped through the fabric and coated the suit all over, especially at the holes where the bullet went though and exited. Peter didn't fuss around too much though, he just quickly got out of the sweatpants and struggled into the suit. His webshooters seemed to be in working condition, which was good. He regretted not taking his phone the previous night though. May had gone out of town and he had promised to call her every night. So much for not worrying her.

The suit felt dirty on him, obviously, but it was fine for now. He left the bathroom feeling a lot better. Wearing the suit always filled him with a weird amount of confidence and emotional comfort.

"You good?" Frank asked, standing from the couch.

"I am. Thank you, again. For patching me up and everything."

Frank shrugged and sniffed "It was nothing."

Peter smiled behind the mask. The media never talked about the Frank Castle he was seeing now. Peter knew that there was no way killing people was something he could have been comfortable with, and he couldn't imagine the man in front of him doing any of it out of pleasure either. He looked tired and worn out, haunted. Peter knew the feeling all too well.

"See you again?" Peter asked cheekily as he made his way to the nearest window. Being sad could wait for now.

"Don't push your luck kid. I'm the Punisher, remember?" Frank mock threatened, lips twitching at the corners.

Peter shrugged, pleased by his reaction "You seriously don't seem that bad to me." He pried the window open and took a look around quickly, checking his webshooters again just to be safe.

"Maybe not right now." The dark undertone of Frank's voice made Peter shiver. Not in a bad way though, which annoyed him a little. Should he be turned on by this? Most likely not.

"Either way, thanks. See you around." Peter didn't wait for Frank to answer as he dived out of the window and began to make his way home.

He had to get his spare suit from Tony. How fun that was going to be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm sooo I have no clue what I'm writing at this point, but let me know if you'd like to read more :D
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :3


	2. Chapter 2

"What am I looking at here?" Tony frowned disapprovingly as he held the damaged Spidey suit in his hands. It wasn't in as bad of a condition as it had been before though. Peter managed to get out most of the blood and he attempted to stitch the bullet inflicted tearings shut with limited success.

"Um. My suit?"

"Very funny Peter," the billionare shook his head "You know, this is the reason why I don't install Karen into your suits anymore. With how regularly you wreck them It would be a waste and would probably cause damage in her program."

Peter bit his lip. He would have argued with Tony if he didn't agree already. Having Karen around was nice and he still missed her sometimes, but he quite enjoyed being completely independent, no AI to check on him. It was for the best too. Karen sometimes still hang around on his phone or laptop but not the suits. Nevertheless, he enjoyed her company.

"I know, I'm sorry." Peter sighed in defeat.

"Well anyway," Tony dropped the damaged suit from his hands like a kid bored of their toy and walked away briskly "I've been meaning to ask you to try out this one." He returned with a brand new suit after some rummaging and pressed it into Peter's hands eagerly.

"Woah!" Peter exclaimed, never able to hold back his amazement whenever Tony came up with something new.

Tony smirked self satisfied "Pretty cool huh? This one's a lot more durable than the previous one. But, if you wreck this one, that's gonna be your problem young man. I'm not gonna give you a new one for the next two months."

Peter pouted and whined. "Aw man, for real?" Tony grimaced at him unimpressed in return. "Fine, I get it. I'm gonna be more careful from now on, I promise. Thanks Tony."

"No problem kid." the older man ruffled his hair playfully, ignoring Peter's protests. "Have you thought about the internship?"

"Well," Peter felt a bit guilty then. He hadn't given it much thought ever since Tony brought it up. He offered Peter an internship in one of his workshops for the summer. He would get to work with Tony and get paid at the same time! "I kinda forgot about it until now." Peter admitted.

"Don't worry about it," Tony waved it off, but Peter could tell he was disappointed. Great. Good job Peter Parker, he frowned to himself. He didn't think Tony would be so disappointed though. Maybe...he wanted to spend more time with Peter? And the internship was just an excuse? The thought made him feel warm in the chest.

"I want the internship," Peter blurted "I just forgot to ask Aunt May what she thinks."

"Oh, that's okay. You are in no hurry kid. There are still a few months left until summer. Here," Tony handed Peter a document after searching around his desk through stacks of paper. He really needed some cleaning up to do. "This is the application form. I already signed it, you just have to fill out the rest. Bring it back next time you come over and we'll talk more about this."

"Will do." Peter grinned.

Tony returned his grin and checked his watch with a sigh "I'm sorry kid but I gotta be on my way. Stark Industries won't run itself. Unfortunately."  
Peter nodded in understanding "It's fine. I have to go home anyway. Aunt May's coming back today." He left out the part about having to clean the apartment. It wasn't in the same state it had been when May left.

"Happy will drive you home," Tony held up a hand "And I know what you are going to say, but It's faster than taking the bus."

Peter only smiled and shook his head fondly. Tony knew him too well. He wrapped his arms around his mentor's shoulders and hugged him briefly. Tony returned the embrace and patted his back.

"Thanks for everything. I promise to take better care of the suit you just gave me."

"You better, because you are not getting another one for a while." Tony laughed "Now, off you go. I texted Happy and he's waiting for you in the garage."

"Okay. See you next time!" Peter shouted and waved as he began to jog to the elevator. He saw Tony waving back briefly before the elevator doors closed in on him.

Happy was annoyed to see him, as always, though Peter wasn't as obnoxious with his text messages as he used to be. They didn't make small talk as Happy drove him home, which was fine by Peter. It gave him time to let his mind drift. He thought about Frank Castle.

His stomach fluttered and burned with guilt. He should have told Tony about him getting shot and being rescued by the Punisher. Castle was a wanted criminal, for several counts of first degree murder, no less. But...the man who dressed his wounds and tried to make him feel comfortable, made him breakfast and joked with him, didn't seem like someone with bad intentions. Could have been a trick to make him think he wasn't so bad though. Serial killers were commonly natural charmers. But why would he do that? Why would he risk getting caught after hiding for so long? He let Peter go without a thought. It couldn't have been to keep him as his hostage.

The whole thing made absolutely no sense.

He kind of wished he could see Frank again though. If only to ask him why he saved Peter's ass when he could have just walked away. He couldn't shake the feeling of the ex soldier's calloused fingers either, making him want to squirm.

The car came to a halt in front of Peter's apartment building.

"Thanks Happy! See you around!" Peter called as he climbed out. Happy gave a sour nod before he drove away.

Peter took the elevator and unlocked the door of his apartment feeling tired already. His muscles still felt sore from the hit he got and his side still hadn't healed completely. He felt worn out and he wasn't even done with his homework for the day. There was an essay due in a few days as well and he hadn't touched that either.

He slammed the door shut behind himself with a loud bang he ignored as he looked around the apartment.

Trashed. Completely trashed.

That was the first thing that came to mind. There were empty pizza and chinese takeout boxes littered on the coffeetable and the dining table in the kitchen. There were crumbs of chips and bread on the couch, empty soda and coke bottles, empty snack bags lying around his abandoned videogame controller.

He dropped off his backpack in his bedroom (which was in a similar state as the rest of the house with the additional laundry) and began to clean up his mess.

He picked up the empty containers and bottles around the house and put them in seperate bags. (Recycling is important kids!) He washed the dirty dishes and put them out to dry near the sink. Then he moved to his bedroom to collect his dirty laundry and put the washable stuff in the dishwasher.

After that he moved around the house with a vacuum cleaner to get the stuff he missed before and clean up the crumbs and dust. He even pulled furniture out to get corners and places difficult to reach.

By the time the apartment looked spotless again, it was almost 9 pm and Peter felt exhausted and hungry, slumped on the couch. May was supposed to be home soon, he mused. He had missed her so much.

As much as he liked to be independent and liked having the house to himself, he missed May scolding him for leaving his dirty boxers laying around. He missed her warm hugs and smile.

As if sensing his thoughts, he heard the door click open and May enter the apartment. She looked around with clear surprise. She obviously hadn't expected to find the house clean.

"Aunt May!" Peter was on his feet and moving to embrace his aunt in seconds.

May laughed and squeezed her nephew fondly "I missed you sweetie."

"I missed you too." Peter grinned as they came apart.

"You haven't burned down the house I see." May joked lightly as she shrugged off her coat to hang it by the entrance. "I haven't seen the place this clean since we moved in."

"Well, I thought you deserved a break."

May smiled and kissed his cheek "Thank you, Peter. You have done a great job." It warmed Peter to his toes despite how tired he felt. Both the kiss and the praise.

Maybe he could forget all about that business with the Punisher afterall.

"Has anything interesting happened while I was gone?"

"Not really. Just the usual."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frank didn't think too much about Spiderman after their strange encounter. He had other things to occupy his mind.

He had a semi steady job at a warehouse he intended to keep at a shoe company. It was a miracle that the fake documents he used weren't discovered the first time he applied for the job, but he guessed it was only fair, since he had paid for them so much.

His coworkers didn't seem to know who he was, but Frank preferred to keep to himself anyway. He wasn't one to make work friends.

He sat alone at lunch with a book open and ignored the chatter of his fellow workers. They had tried to make him engage in their conversations at first but quickly gave up when Frank only gave one word answers at best.

He wasn't uncooperative though. He worked fine with others when it came to teamwork, he just preferred not to talk when it wasn't necessary. His coworkers didn't resent him for that, which he was relieved about. He had no energy to deal with petty feauds at his workplace.

He showed up on time at the beginning of his shift and left at the end of his shift on time. He walked home, maybe punched some muggers on the way, and ordered takeout if he wasn't in the mood to cook for himself. 

He sometimes attended Curtis's support group and sat with other soldiers suffering from PTSD, listened to their stories and difficulties. He didn't speak most of the time, but he did share sometimes. Fleeting thoughts, memories, his own demons. It still felt weird to do, but he knew it would only help him to share his feelings with someone. And since therapists were out of the question, the support group was the second best thing. Well, he heard dogs can help with that sort of thing, but a dog would remind him too much of how his own kids used to beg him for one. The last time he had tried to care for a dog didn't end well either.

No, he knew it was best he kept to himself. Being alone meant that nobody close to him could get hurt. Karen was the only person he still kept in touch with from time to time. She obviously worried a lot about him, and it made him feel guiltier than he would have liked it.

The next time he heard about Spiderman was during lunchbreak a few days after the accident.

Frank usually ignored the banter of his coworkers in the favor of his chosen book of the day, but the hero's name caught his attention. He found himself distracted, half listening to what the guys were talking about.

"I'm telling ya! He was amazing! He came out of nowhere, jumping from above on a string of web. He kicked the guy who attacked us in the face and stuck him to the nearest wall. He stayed with me and my wife until the police came."

Frank scoffed to himself. Typical. Masked heroes and their fans. He could kind of understand Spiderman's appeal though. He seemed innocent enough, probably very young. It made Frank wonder when the spiderguy was going to learn what it was really like to be in the real world.

It was none of his business though. No.

He found himself thinking about the hero on and off during the day anyway, no matter how much he tried to erase him from his mind. And by the end of his shift, he came to the conclusion that he would have liked to see him again. If only to ask how his injury has healed. But that was just folly in his mind. He knew that he would most likely never see him again, and that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It would do him no good to be discovered by the Avengers, now that he had most of his life under control.

Still, the way having Spiderman in his home made him feel less alone...

Frank groaned and quickened his steps as he left the warehouse for the day.

"Keep your shit together Castle! You can't be this patheticly lonely." he chided himself under his breath. He had been fine so far, fine being on his own. What would a guy in an obnoxiously bright suit change about that?

He got groceries from the corner shop close to his apartment and carried his stuff home feeling distracted. In fact, he almost dropped his stuff when he heard shrill high pitched screaming from a nearby alley.

He stared at his bruised knuckles.  
Punching bad guys should make him feel better right? Right.

He quickly hid his groceries behind a dumpster and took off in the direction of the scream he heard.

"Woah! Put the knife down big guy! Somebody might get hurt."

That voice...Frank didn't have to see to know that it was Spiderman's voice. And true enough, as he rounded the last corner to a dark alley he saw that Spiderman was dodging a huge guy coming at him with a knife. He looked like a fragile twig in comparison.

"You seem really familiar. Have we met before? Or could it be that you remind me of a gorilla I have seen in a zoo once?" he dodged another swing with the kinfe and chuckled cheerily "Hard to tell really."

Frank frowned darkly and walked up to the man even bigger than him. He hated idiots like him handling a knife like that, the way he just swang it around like it was a sword. He obviously had no idea what he was doing.

"Hey asshole!"

As he turned around the guy looked so surprised it was almost funny. Frank planted his fist right in the man's face, knocking him out cold with a loud crack. Maybe a broken nose?

"Aw come on! I had him!" Frank turned to see Spiderman crossing his arms over his chest, shaking his head as he looked down at the unconscious thug sprawled out on the ground.

Frank stared.

The hero had obviously gotten a new suit. It looked new to him at least, if a little used already. Similar to the last one in design, only little changes in the patterns of the webbing and other small details here and there. It hugged his body just as well though. Frank hadn't got the chance to observe him this way, but now he could see how well the suit fit his slender frame in a very flattering way.

"Sure you did." Frank sniffed and tucked his hands in his jacket. He felt slightly better. He wasn't sure if that was because he got to punch someone though.

"Thanks anyway." Spiderman chirped happily and shot a few webs to restrain the guy. "What are you doing here?"

"I was on my way home."

"Oh."

Frank didn't know what to make of his tone. But it didn't matter. People were usually awkward around him. He was used to it by now. He ignored the awkwardness of the whole thing and opted for a casual tone.

"How's the gunshot wound?"

Spiderman looked down at his side briefly, where the bullet had left its mark.

"It's fine. Almost completely healed by now." He did a quick backflip to confirm this. The showoff, Frank thought with his eyebrows raised in amusement. "Though, about that...I wanted to thank you properly, since you cooked for me and everything. Can I invite you for anything? Food or something...?"

Frank couldn't believe it. The masked hero was visibly fidgeting, stumbling over his words. He could almost imagine his cheeks flushed in a light shade of pink under the mask. It was way too amusing to watch.

"I could eat." he answered honestly. His lunch hadn't been a whole lot and it had been a while since he ate anything. Spending some time with the person he had been thinking about...that didn't seem so bad.

"Do you like Chinese? I know a great place right around the corner! You won't regret it." Frank bit back a smile. From awkward and nervous the hero instantly changed to excited and enthusiastic at the mention of food. Interesting.

The ex soldier shrugged.

"Sure. I'm not picky when it comes to food."

"Awesome! Chinese it is then! On me. Come on!"

Frank huffed a laugh as he fell in step beside Spiderman. He was small but fast for sure. Appearantly the idea of eating gave him more energy, if we can go by how long Frank had to make his strides to keep up.

True to Spiderman's word, the Chinese restaurant was quite close, only a minute or two of walking. The old lady who took their order didn't seem bothered by the hero suit at all. She chatted and smiled with Spiderman like they were old friends, almost like she was his grandmother or something.

They took their food to a roof nearby and sat down at the edge of the building to eat.

"Do you know that lady?" Frank asked absently as they picked out their own food to eat from the containers.

"Kind of. I eat at that restaurant sometimes. She says I should eat more to be healthy, gain weight. I bet she snuck in some extra stuff." Spiderman laughed.

"You _could_ use more weight." Frank agreed with a small smile. He took a sip of his hot soup and hummed content. It was damn good soup. Steaming hot and filled his belly nicely.

"Are you saying I'm scrawny?" Frank chuckled at the hero's pouting face, cheeks filled with food. He swallowed and pointed his chopsticks at the older man. "That's rude you know. What if somebody told you that you had to lose weight?"

"That I don't give a shit."

That got a snort from the kid before they fell silent, eating in comfortable silence. They watched the neon lights of the city, listened to the sirens and the sound of traffic. The chatter of people down below even so late at night.

"Can I ask you something?"

Frank hummed and nodded.

"I um...I was wondering, why did you help me that night?"

Oh.

Frank hadn't expected that question. Then again, he should have. It was a reasonable one, a good question. Why _did_ he do it? He didn't like heroes. People parading around the city in bright costumes, doing the work of the police. Frank believed more in instant justice. Why let the scum of the earth be put in cells, let them live when they hadn't let others live? Why show the ones mercy who didn't deserve it? Why lock them up and then let them go back on the streets to hurt people again?

But Spiderman...he was different somehow. The way he talked to that piece of garbage back in the alley. He had been _joking_ with the guy. He made witty remarks to anger and distract him, to make his job easier. He was clearly not the punch first, ask questions later kind of guy. His energy was different than what he had felt with the Devil of Hell's Kitchen too. Completely different.

"I did it because I wanted to." Frank set down the container he emptied and used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth clean. "The work you do, this vigilanty business, I don't agree with it. Not really. But...I don't hate you. You are not a bad person as far as I'm concerned. People can say whatever they want about me you know? I don't give a crap. Whatever you heard about me, whatever shit people are spreading about me, doesn't matter. I don't let good people bleed out on the street. That's all."

"Ah...Y-Yeah.Thank you."

"No problem." Frank sighed. There it was again. That lingering awkwardness in the air.

And silence. Drawn out silence. Long seconds passed until either of them spoke again.

"Peter."

"What?" Frank shifted to look at the hero, who turned towards him.

"Call me Peter. B-Because that--that's my name. Yeah."

"Peter...alright. Call me Frank, then."

He could see Peter smile, with his mask still rolled up to his nose. It was a nice smile, one he returned.

They ended up sitting there for a while, comfortable with not talking much, just watching the city, stealing glances at each other from time to time. Until it was time for both Peter and Frank to leave.

He had to be up early for his shift. Reluctantly, but he had to say goodbye to the hero.

"We could...do this again sometime. I-If you want. It's cool if you don't!"

Frank scoffed. "Sure kid. Why not."

What am I doing? he wondered as Peter grinned up at him, adjusting his mask to cover up his jaw. Why am I making plans to hang out with a kid?  What happened to being fine without anybody? There was no way he could take it back now though. And when he really thought about it, he didn't even want to. To hell with it.

He helped to clean up the remains of their meal and put the trash where it belonged.

"Can I reach you somehow?" Peter asked before they parted ways "You know...In case I get shot again and need patching up?"

Frank rolled his eyes, but dug into the pocket inside his jacket for his phone. He handed the device over.

"Thanks!" Peter accepted it happily, swiping and typing swiftly already "I saved my number for you and sent myself a quick text."

"I can see that." Frank could barely keep himself from grinning at the message once he got his phone back. He settled for a half smile though, because he wasn't a humorless monster.

'Hello Peter, this is Frank. Could you remind me which century we are in currently? I seem to have forgotten.'

"I'm not that old you know."

"Of course you are not." Frank couldn't see it, but he could hear the playful smirk in the kid's voice. "Thank you. I know I'm saying it a lot, but I mean it. I appreciate you agreeing to this too. I...enjoyed it."

"Well, I would be crazy to turn down free food. And company."

Peter chuckled and nodded "So...see you around?"

Frank nodded back "See you around. Take care, yeah? Just because you have my number, doesn't mean I want to patch you up again."

"I'll be careful!" Peter shouted cheekily over his shoulder, breaking into a run.

Frank's breath hitched as the kid literally jumped off of the side of the building. Falling, until he caught himself with a webstring, pulling himself up just to repeat the same thing over and over. Then he disappeared in the jungle of buildings.

"Shit."

Frank watched for a while, but retreated soon after.

He had to retrieve his groceries as well. Great.

By the time he was back at his apartment, he felt weary and dirty. He had no energy to wash up though, or to put away the stuff he bought. He just got rid of his clothes and sat on his bed.

He looked over to his bedside table, a familiar longing squeezing his chest.

He reached over and pulled the drawer open, took out the framed picture inside with great care, like he was handling a crystal egg about to break.

It was a photo of his family. The one Karen had given him back at the hospital. He had bought a new frame for it a while ago.

Frank smoothed his fingers over the smiling faces of his kids, his wife, brows drawn together, tears swelling up in his eyes, making them sting.

"What the hell am I doing?" he asked noone in particular. He sniffed and wiped away the tears as he heard his phone buzz in the heap of clothes he had taken off. He groaned and searched through the pile, sighing when he found the device and sat back on his bed.

A message welcomed him as he unlocked it.

'good night Frank'

He breathed deeply a few times and laughed. A full belly laugh he felt to his core. He laughed because somebody wished him good night. The Punisher. Monster of Hell's Kitchen. Nobody had done that since...he couldn't even remember when.

It felt...nice. To have someone think about him, care enough to write him a message like that. A friend he just made. Peter. It wouldn't have been such a big deal for anybody else, but it warmed him nevertheless.

He let that thought lull him to sleep after putting the picture back in its place and writing a quick reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I wrote more. I'm glad some people enjoyed the last chapter :D 
> 
> Let me know if you'd like to read more and I'll try to write as much as I can. I literally have nothing planned out :D
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :3


	3. Chapter 3

Peter grinned to himself as he answered Frank's text message hastily. He knew texting in class was a bad idea, but he did it anyway. It was worth it.

One message became more than a hundred over one week. After that night on the roof Peter had been texting Frank constantly, and the older man did his best to answer him. He obviously wasn't the texting type, but he adapted to it quite well all things considered.

He made Peter smile a lot.

He would often find himself grinning stupidly at his phone, both MJ and Ned giving him curious looks and asking what on earth is he looking at. He could never tell them that he is chatting with the Punisher though, so he would just say he found a funny picture or something. Which was sometimes true as well. He sent Frank a lot of dumb memes and jokes. Admittably, not all of them hit home. He had to explain what memes were in the first place, but Frank seemed to get it.

"Who are you texting?" Ned whispered curiously. Peter hit send and tucked his phone away before the teacher could notice. He did not want detention.

"Nobody."

Ned looked unimpressed by his lie.  
"I'm not blind Peter. You are grinning like an idiot every time you look at your phone. MJ and I have a bet that you are texting that girl from Spanish."  
Peter had to hold back a laugh. They had no idea.

"Yeah. I'm texting Anita."

"Really?" Ned could barely keep his voice quiet, obviously excited. Peter almost felt bad about the lie. Almost.

"She asked me something about homework and we started talking." It surprised him how easy the lie came. He felt kind of lucky that his friends made this assumption without him having to make up excuses.

"Can I see?"

"No." Peter smiled.

Ned huffed disappointed but settled back. He didn't ask about it again. Not until lunch, when they met up with MJ at the cafeteria.

"What's up?" she asked absently as she joined them at their usual table.

"You owe me ten bucks!" Ned grinned thriumpthly.

Michelle's lips twisted into a frown but she obediently handed over the money. Ned looked so satisfied with himself, she only shook her head.

"So you are going for the Spanish girl." she commented before she dug into her lunch.

Peter sawllowed the bubbling laughter at that. Frank the Spanish girl.

"We are just texting. Nothing special."  
He wished he could see Frank again, but it hasn't been that long since they met up last time. Texting was nice, but he kind of wanted to hear Frank's raspy voice, rumbling gruffly. Even thinking about it made the tiny hairs on his body stand.

Michelle looked at him suspiciously but didn't comment.

"When are you taking her out?" Ned mumbled between bites of his sandwich.

"I don't think I want to..."

"You don't?" Michelle seemed surprised "I thought you liked her. Not even a week ago you were gushing about her. I remember vividly. It was hard to shut you up."

Peter took it back. Maybe this assumption wasn't as nice as he thought. How was he supposed to tell them that he didn't find Anita as interesting ever since he met Frank Castle? That wouldn't sit well with anyone. He especially didn't want MJ to kill him with her eyes.

"She's nice. I just don't think we would work as a couple." Peter lied through his teeth and hoped it wasn't obvious.

"Can I keep the money?" Ned looked sideways at MJ.

She snatched her money back from a pouting Ned. Peter laughed and pat his back as MJ made a show of pocketing it with a leer.

They didn't ask more about it. Peter loved his friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It all kind of happened by accident.

Peter somehow managed to hit the call button on his phone in the open chat window with Frank. Normally, with anybody else he would just end the call quickly and apologise in text. But this time he froze on the spot as he sat in his chair, back in his bedroom, textbooks and notebooks spread open on his desk.

By the time he snapped out of it Frank was already on the line.

"Hey, Peter. Everything alright?" he asked in an alarmed tone. His voice sounded like music to Peter's ears, a shiver making its way down his back.

"Y-Yeah. Sorry. I called you by accident." he stammered and bit his lip as Frank let out a hearty chuckle on the other end of the line.

"You had me worried there for a second." Worried? For some reason hearing that from him made Peter feel warm. "Should I end the call?"

Should he? Peter really wanted to hear his voice more. He had no excuse to keep him on the line though.

"Do you want to?" Peter asked timidly. Without the suit on, he felt weirdly volnurable even if it was just a phone call.

"I'm out from work already, I can talk." Peter's heart did a flip at the offer, lips stretching into a slow smile.

They talked about nothing in particular. Peter asked Frank about his day, which hadn't been eventful. He chatted with the hero as he cooked dinner for himself, answering Peter's questions about what he was doing.

"I love homecooked stuff." Peter said, "I would be scared to attempt cooking though. I fear I might burn down the building." he confessed, only half joking. He really wasn't at home in the kitchen. There was one time May let him experiment but it didn't end well.

Frank huffed and chuckled amused at that, which made Peter's stomach flutter. He really liked the sound of his laughter. Something about it just sounded so...right.

"I'm sure you would do great if you practiced." Frank offered. Peter could hear him stir something above the stofe. "I wasn't much of a chef myself before I joined the army you know? I was shitty at most things. I only started cooking more after I left. Helps me take off my mind of things, recipes are some kind of a system I can follow."

Peter hummed, a cheeky smile taking over his face "I don't know. I feel like I would need a teacher. Some kind of an adult supervision."

"Yeah?" Peter wasn't sure, but Frank sounded like he was smiling too. It was hard to tell over the phone, especially with how little he actually knew the man. "I could teach you some stuff."

Peter squirmed in his seat and swallowed. For some reason it sounded so...unintentionally like an innuendo. The fact that it had Peter's heart beat faster made him a little scared. He hadn't been talking to the guy that much and he was already all worked up by a joke.

"I might take you up on that offer." Peter swallowed his awkward teenager thoughts and did his best to sound not turned on.

"Next time you are in the neighbourhood, we'll see what a spider can do in the kitchen."

Peter laughed and then bit down on his goofy smile "Alright, deal."

"PETER?" he jumped a little as his aunt's sharp voice cut into their conversation.

"YEAH?" Peter shouted back with mild annoyance. He could hear Frank huffing amused.

"Could you come over here? There's something wrong with the TV!"  
Peter bit back a groan. She probably just pressed the wrong button on the remote control and changed the settings. Great.

"You have to go, I presume." Frank's light tone definitely lessened Peter's annoyance. Somewhat.

"Yeah," he sighed, defeated "I'm sorry. Talk to you later?"

"Sure."

"Awesome." he said a quick goodbye and jumped out of his chair "I'm coming Aunt May!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Much like with the texting, one phone call turned into many calls over the following weeks. It was a slow process, but Peter got quite used to hearing Frank's pleasantly gruff voice over the phone. Sometimes Peter even fell asleep with his phone next to his head, tone apologetic the next time he spoke to Frank. The older man would always wave the apology away good naturedly and tell him not to worry about it.

Peter came to appreciate the warm and caring person Frank Castle was as a normal every-day guy. He still haven't had the chance to meet him in person since their last encounter, but their texting and talking on the phone made up for it in his opinion. A lot of the talking was done by Peter, for which he felt embarrassed at first, but the way Frank reassured him about it had him forget about it quickly.

Despite not knowing much about science, Frank listened to him gushing about his projects. Of the ways he was trying to improve his webshooters, of the broken electronic devices he brought home every day to repair. At first Peter was concerned that he might be boring Frank, but the older man kept him going with small curious questions here and there. It made him feel so relieved the first time, made his chest fill with warmth.

In turn Peter got Frank to talk about his interest in poetry and literature, even managed to convince him to read out some of his favourites. The way Frank read poetry...well, it did things to Peter's body. Especially the ones with erotic undertones. Even so, when he read somber and sorrowful poems, it gave Peter quite the heartache. He could hear in Frank's tone that he was feeling those emotions to his core, and made Peter want to comfort the ex soldier. It was always hard to find his voice after those readings.

Not to say that Frank didn't like poetry that was more lighthearted and fun. He introduced Peter to some of the funniest and snarkiest poets, surprising the teen with how interesting literature can be when introduced the right way. They spent a lot of time discussing what they thought of the poems Frank read out, the hidden messages and emotions. It was surprisingly enjoyable, even though it had nothing to do with science. Peter told Frank laughing how his Literature teacher looked at him when he became more active during class, going out of his way to ask questions and comment on things.

Of course, they didn't only talk about science and poetry. Peter loosened up enough to tell Frank about his days in general, of the things he did with his friends. Frank always had a funny story he remembered from his own high school years, though they were a lot different from Peter's. Nevertheless, he made Peter laugh a lot. Frank had been a cocky teenager, always looking for trouble before he joined the army. And trouble he got, quite often. But thinking back on it now only made him and Peter laugh. Fond with nostalgia.

There were times when Frank needed some space, when the grief he had experienced from losing so many loved ones weighed his soul down. Which Peter understood and respected, even though he wished he could help the older man somehow. Comfort him in some way.

Some nights all Peter had time for was to text a few words before going on patrol. It always disappointed him, but Frank reassured him that he understood his duties. He didn't necessarily agree with Peter's methods, but he respected them. And that was enough for Peter.

At the end of the day, Frank was a just nice friend to have. A little old fashioned and stubborn, but not stiff and unfunny, not the violent murderer people made him out to be. Peter actually liked him a lot. Maybe more than he should.

Peter honestly didn't get why Frank was talking to him in the first place. Someone like him...he must have people around him closer in age, in experience.

He never dared to ask though, fearing Frank might actually stop talking to him. That was the last thing he wanted.  
When he thought about it, it was kind of funny. Him, friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, fearing that the Punisher will stop talking to him.

He sometimes stopped to think; "What am I doing?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Frank chanted in his head franatically as he attempted to clean up his apartment the best he could. Last time he hadn't cared too much, but that was because he brought an unconscious stranger into his home.

But it would be Peter this time.

His new friend.

His only friend really. Which was kind of pathetic, that Frank couldn't befriend even one person at least from his support group, but talking to them felt more like a chore than anything. And more importantly, he saw himself in them. The same fears, the same broken expression.

And Peter made it easy for him. The kid was hard to calm down once he started talking, not that Frank wanted him to stop talking. He had a youthful energy Frank kind of envied at times, but mostly just admired and was awed by.

Someone as genuine and just pure as Peter, he had never met before. He could only compare the hero's energy to the one his kids used to have. Peter was more mature of course, and really smart for someone at his age.

Frank wasn't so sure how old Peter was exatcly though. He guessed maybe 17 or 18? The thought still made him feel kind of uncomfortable. But it was hard to maintain when he read the young hero's texts or listened to him gushing about science and games and movies and anything that came to mind.

It was a little overwhelming at times, but definitely not unwelcomed or annoying. Peter was just...a good kid. A kid with a lot of responsibilities. Ones he took to heart, swinging around the city on webs, climbing walls, helping people and handing thugs over to the police. All the while balancing his own personal life and school to fit his hero duties. Frank admired that a lot about him.

And the fact that he cared. He asked Frank about his day, fumed and got noticably frustrated on his behalf when someone got undeservingly rude with him. He made an effort to cheer him up, to make him smile and laugh. Frank would have lied if he said he hadn't missed these things since the death of his family.

He appreciated Peter taking an interest in his hobby too, going as far as looking up poetry himself and looking into things Frank hadn't asked him to. These little gestures meant more to him than he could have ever imagined. He forgot how nice it felt to have someone he could talk to, even just a few words a day.

It was nice. And he didn't want to mess things up.

Except he did. But to his defense, he didn't mean to.

It kind of just happened, when he was talking to Peter on the phone. He was gushing excitedly about a sci-fi movie with huge alien bugs and fights. It sounded kind of cool, though Frank had never seen it before. When Peter innocently suggested that they should 'totally watch it together!', he mindlessly agreed. Sure, maybe sometime in the future, he thought. But then Peter was asking when and where, making the older man freeze up completely.

"I guess my place is out of the question. But I was hoping maybe we could watch it at yours?" Peter had asked in that breathless tone of his. He sounded excited and nervous at the same time. It made Frank's stomach flutter in all kinds of different emotions. It was like back in high school, when the girl he had been crushing on subtly asked him to a dance.

"I'm free this Friday," Frank had admitted weakly "You could come over at 7, if you still remember the place."

Peter had agreed enthusiastically, "And of course I remember the place Frank. I think it's been burned into my brain. Hard not to remember when you almost bleed out and you get saved by a warranted criminal who ends up being one of the nicest guys you know."

Frank had rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same. He was getting used to Peter's sass, and it was kind of endearing if he wanted to be honest. It was never anything malicious or hurtful.

"I'll bring over my laptop and we can watch the movie that way. Sounds cool?"

"Sure," Frank agreed, because, well, it _did_ sound nice. He hadn't sat down with someone to just watch a movie since...he couldn't remember when. It made him kind of excited too. "I'll make the popcorn."

"Great! It's going to be awesome!" Frank smiled as Peter continued speaking about a completely different topic, their plans together momentarily forgotten.

And that led up to today, Frank going circles in his small apartment to see if he had put away everything he didn't want to clutter the place. It was almost 7 pm and he was a mess.

He had showered, put on clothes that weren't so worn out looking and had no bulletholes in them, even shaved. Why? He didn't know. He just felt nervous and didn't want to scare Peter off by looking like a homeless guy.

Maybe all this was a little too much. He was going to meet the hero in his suit anyway. Frank could have dressed in any way he wanted. Still, he felt jittery.

His heart began to beat faster as he heard knocking on the door, a little after 7 pm. He wondered why Peter wasn't just taking the window he had left open for him, but went to open it anyway.

His heart calmed down a little and his brows furrowed in confusion instead, as a young man greeted him by the door. He wore dark faded jeans, sneakers and a red hoodie, a black baseball cap over a head full of brown curly hair. He shifted the strap of the backpack he was wearing nervously while Frank tried to piece together what the guy was possibly looking for at his door.

"Can I help you?" he finally asked, eyes narrowed a little in suspicion.

"Uh, hi Frank. I'm Peter. You know, Spider-Man?" Frank blinked dumbly at him as he registered the familiar voice of the kid. Peter grabbed the end of the cap he was wearing and looked down at his feet.

"I-Is this too much? I can go home. I just thought..." Frank's mouth had gone completely dry in a matter of seconds as Peter fumbled with his hat and stammered out apologies nervously. "I just thought it would be weird to watch the movie in my suit, you know? Yeah..." Peter bit his lip nervously.

"No, It's fine Peter." Frank finally found his voice, a little dry and hoarse sounding "Come in, please." He gently ushered the still visibly nervous teen into his apartment. "I'm just surprised...I thought you wanted to keep your identity a secret."

"Yeah," Peter shrugged a little "But it would have felt wrong not to let you see the real me at this point. You haven't hidden anything from me...And I trust you. So..."

Frank huffed fondly and took in the young man in front of him more closely. His body type sure fit Spider-Man's, a lithe but strong form. His eyes though, they were nothing like those white shapes the suit had. They were a warm brown, very much full of life. Frank found that he liked Peter without the suit a lot more.

"I won't reveal your identity to anyone. I sure as hell wouldn't want anyone to do that to me."

"Thanks Frank," Peter's expression softened to a small grateful smile. "I brought my laptop, so we can watch the movie anywhere you want." He shrugged off his backpack and pulled out said device. "Should I take off my shoes?" He asked suddenly.

"Yeah. That would be nice actually. Hold on," Frank hadn't prepared for this, but went to fetch a pair of slippers he never wore but had anyway. He moved around the apartment in his socks or bare feet when he was at home anyway.

Peter took the slippers gratefully and followed the older man to the livingroom area with the couch, where they settled down comfortably.

"What's the movie called again?" Frank asked, to make small talk as Peter pulled the laptop open on the small table in front of the couch and began fiddling with it.

"Starship Troopers, 1997," he turned away from the screen to grin at Frank "I've seen it many times already, but it never gets boring."

Frank smiled as he watched the hero work his magic on the computer, the obvious excitement on his face and his slightly reddened cheeks.

He got up from the couch and left Peter to set up the movie while he went to the kitchen to start cooking the popcorn he had prepared in advance. He wanted it to be fresh for when they started watching the movie.

"Do you want anything to drink? I'm having beer, but there is some juice left in the fridge." He didn't mean to make it sound like he was patronising Peter, but the teen didn't seem to mind.

"Yeah, sure. Thanks." he answered easily, not looking up.

Frank popped a bottle of beer open and filled a glass with the last of his orange juice, set them on the table next to the laptop and grabbed a bowl for the popcorn. He settled back on the couch, leaving a comfortable amount of distance between him and Peter.

"Ready for the greatness?" Peter grinned excited. Frank fought back a grin of his own as he nodded.

And it wasn't as awkward as Frank thought it would be. He kind of forgot about the whole secret identity thing and all that, devoting most of his attention to the movie. The film itself was entertaining. Despite being a little old, it held up nicely. It definitely wasn't as flashy and obnoxious as a lot of the new movies that were made nowadays. The acting was good, the bugs looked surprisingly real, the plot was attention grabbing. Though, it was a lot more gruesome than Frank had expected. It didn't bother him too much, it was just unexpected. But there were jokes too, which lightened the mood somewhat. The ending was as wholesome as a movie about fighting murderous bugs in space can be. Overall it was a nice experience.

Of course Peter ate most of the popcorn, while Frank sipped his beer, and sometimes made little remarks that had Frank chuckle. It all just felt right for the ex soldier. To sit down with a friend on a Friday afternoon and watch a movie. It was normal, and it meant a lot to him.

Peter stood up from his seat and stretched a little as the credits started rolling "It was so awesome!"

"I have to admit, it was quite good." Frank smiled.

"Told you it would be." Peter returned his smile "I just love it! And uh...thanks for seeing it with me. I know it was kind of weird, me showing up like this, but I had a good time."

Frank shook his head and stood as well. His legs were kind of numb. "I had a good time too Peter. You have done nothing wrong. If anything, I should be thanking you. I haven't relaxed like this in a long time."

"Really?" the way the young hero was looking up at Frank had a very strange combination of emotions stir in him. He realised how close he was standing and tried to look casual as he stepped back to grab his empty beerbottle, the empty glass and the bowl.

"Really. Stop worrying kid, I _did_ enjoy the film." Frank chided softly.

"Would you like to do it again sometime then?" Peter followed him to the kitchen and watched him dump the bottle, then set the bowl and glass in the sink.

Frank's stomach fluttered a little at the offer. Should he be excited about the prospect of that? Peter was so much younger than him...why would he want to spend his free time with a broken old man like him? At the same time, he really liked spending time with Peter.

"Are you sure you want that?" Frank asked, turning around to face the hero.

"Of course. I have tons of ideas about what we could watch. I--" Peter looked away, a subtle flush creeping to his cheeks. "I just don't have a lot of friends, you know? Not ones who would be able to do this stuff with me. I used to watch movies with my uncle but...Anyway. I understand if you don't want to." He looked so young and vornulable at that moment. Frank had the sudden urge to embrace and protect him at all costs. He blamed it on his instincts to protect family, though he didn't know how Peter fit into that. He shook himself internally and settled on putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I want to. Though I wasn't sure if it was something you wanted, or just offered to be polite." Frank admitted. He didn't know why, but being honest about what he was feeling just felt right with Peter.

Peter looked incredulous for a moment, brows furrowed "I think you are nice, Frank. I wouldn't have come here if I didn't like you. We are friends."

"Yeah," Frank smiled and patted Peter's shoulder before he retrieved his hand.

"So then next week, same place, same time?" Peter asked, tone hopeful. Frank found himself melting a little at the way Peter was looking at him.

"Alright, I'll be free then."

"Great!" Peter checked his phone, a thoughtful frown pulling at his lips "I think I better go now. If I get home in time I can still go on patrol tonight."

Oh. Right. Peter was also Spider-Man.

The knowledge that Peter was going out on the streets of New York on his own made Frank uneasy. The picture of Peter bleeding out in some dark alley had his skin crawl, the urge to protect Peter stronger than before. But he also knew Spider-Man was a capable hero, and Peter was an intelligent young man.

"Talk to you later?" Peter asked as he put his sneakers back on by the entrance and grabbed his backpack.

Frank nodded "Take care out there, yeah?"

"I always do," Peter faltered a little at Frank's skeptical expression and sighed. "Okay okay, I promise I will. I won't show up here in the middle of the night bleeding."

"Good. Because I still don't want to patch you up again." Frank deadpanned.

"I know."

Frank said that, but he couldn't help but think that he would patch Peter up as many times as needed, even though it wasn't necessarily a good thing to do. He fought back the urge to ask Peter to stay or something, keep him somewhere safe. Well, safer. He wasn't so sure he would be that much safer in the Punisher's apartment. But still, as he opened the door for Peter and he walked out, he couldn't help but feel anxious.

"Goodbye Frank. Thanks for tonight. I had fun." Peter smiled and put that baseball cap back on his head, curly strands of hair sticking out from underneath. Frank's fingers itched to do something about the messiness of it.

"Goodnight. Be careful. And call me if you need help with anything." He wasn't sure if it was appropriate to worry so much about the young hero, but Peter just smiled brightly and nodded.

As soon as Peter left, his apartment felt cold and empty all of a sudden. Frank grimaced.

He spent the rest of the evening taking care of the dishes and eating something before he went to bed. Though, he found that he couldn't fall asleep.

Which wasn't that uncommon, but this time he knew the thoughts about Peter getting hurt kept him awake. He remembered the gaping bullet wounds in Peter's side, a steady flow of blood trickling out both at his front and his back. Making his fingers bloody as he tried his best to clean up the wounds.

He shuddered and turned to his other side with a groan.

Usually gore didn't bother him, he even welcomed it at times, but even the thought of having that kid's blood on his hands only made him feel sick.

He cracked an eye open as his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He reached over and unlocked the screen.

'finally home. nothing happened. im fine. good night Frank'

He exhaled relieved, already feeling a lot more lighter. He felt sleep tugging at his eyelids as he put the phone back on the nightstand.

He fell asleep rather quickly after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took some effort to write xd I hope you enjoyed this? I have no clue what I'm doing :D
> 
> But let me know if you'd like to read more, down in the comments :D
> 
> Comments and kudos are always greatly appreciated :3


	4. Chapter 4

"So the cat is in the box, and it's supposed to be dead." Frank said slowly as he took another sip of his beer. Peter snorted at his obvious skepticism.

"Kind of, but not exactly. It's a theory, and it has many interpretations. But, here, the idea is that if you open the box, you either find a cat that's dead or one that's alive. The moment you open the box, these two options create two different realities, two different dimensions. They exist at the same time, but they never meet."

"Hm," Frank looked back at the rolling credits of the movie, discarding the empty bottle on the table to lay both of his arms comfortably over the back of the couch. "Is that an actual thing? Or just some mind game?" He turned to look at the teen again, curious. Peter smiled, appreciating Frank taking interest in the things he liked.

"I think it does. To me it seems possible. Who knows. Maybe I'm actually cool in some parallel universe." he said jokingly.

"Cooler than now? As Spider-Man?" Frank asked with one eyebrow cocked.

Peter sighed a little exasparated "Being a hero is cool. But...I don't know. I'm just not cool as Peter Parker. I'm into science and nerdy stuff. That's not considered cool."

"You do think science is cool though, don't you?"

"Yeah," Peter shrugged "I do."

"Isn't that what matters at the end of the day?"

Peter opened his mouth slightly and closed it just as soon, looking at Frank's gentle and patient expression. He felt heat rise to his cheeks and ducked his head to hide his smile.

"I guess you are right," he said, "Thanks Frank."

Frank merely shrugged and smiled at the young hero "I do think you shouldn't sell yourself so short. You are a good kid Peter, a good man. A smart one too. "

Peter was sure his cheeks were bright red by then. For some reason Frank complimenting him like that set his face on fire, even so with how close he was sitting crosslegged to the older man. As he returned Frank's smile, he thought of how easy it would be to just reach out, run his fingers over his sharp jawline and pull him closer.

The thought made his stomach flutter with butterflies, ducking his head before he did or said something he would regret later. He shouldn't even be thinking about things like that for multiple reasons, he noted to himself sadly. 'What are you doing?' he scolded himself mentally.

"Well anyway," Frank sighed softly and stretched a little as he stood from the couch. "It was an interesting movie I guess. I'm not sure I understood all of it, but it was nice either way."

"We could watch it again sometime you know," Peter offered with a cheeky grin "Coherence is the type of movie you have to see several times to notice all the details put in there from beginning to end."

"Maybe," Frank half shrugged "We'll see." He picked up his empty beerbottle and Peter's glass to carry it to the kitchen. Peter took the popcorn bowl and followed him.

"It's getting quite late," the teen mused as he glanced at the digital clock perched on the counter.

"Time to go?" Frank asked over his shoulder, quickly giving the dirty dishes a wash in the sink.

"Yupp. You know, places to be, people to see."

"You mean people to punch." Frank smirked, drying his hands with a towel as he turned to face the hero.

"That too," Peter chuckled, warmth spreading over his cheeks at the way the older man was looking at him. He looked so fond. Unfortunately he didn't have time to bask in that warmth for much longer.

"Same time next week?" Peter tried his best not to be too sad about him having to leave as he shouldered his backpack.

The older man nodded, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the door, waiting patiently for Peter to tie his shoes. If he stared at Frank's biceps for longer than one should, it went unnoticed.

Peter cleared his throat "Cool. Do you want to see a specific movie next time? I feel kind of guilty for not asking before."

"You are the expert Peter," Frank smiled good naturedly "I trust your choices. We haven't watched a movie I didn't like so far."

Peter smiled a little shyly in answer "If you say so. But don't say I didn't ask you."

"Wouldn't dream of it," the older man quipped as he opened the door for the young hero. "Take care out there yeah?"

"Always." Peter's chest warmed considerably at the ex soldier's concerned tone. Even after weeks of them hanging out together Frank displayed the same amount of worry for the teen, which didn't feel patronizing either. It made Peter feel cared for in ways he had never felt before.

"Good night."

 

~~~

 

"Hey Parker!" Peter turned away from his locker to see MJ approach him. He smiled and gave a small wave.

"Hi MJ, what's up?"

"Ned and I were thinking we would see a movie tomorrow after school. Wanna come?"

Peter's heart sank a little at the offer.

"I can't go," he explained, guilty "I promised May I would spend the afternoon with her."

Michelle narrowed her eyes at him, probably because his voice cracked midsentence. She was good at reading people, even better at detecting most of Peter's lies.

"Are you sure Peter? You seem to have a good excuse to not come with us recently each Friday. Is there something we should know about?" she cocked an eyebrow at him, arms crossed in front of her chest. She reminded him of Captain America so much recently. It did nothing good for his ever growing guilt.

"No, it's just my aunt. Really. I'm sorry guys." Peter made sure not to avoid her gaze as she seemed to peer right into his soul.

She didn't look any less skeptical as she nodded and uncrossed her arms "If you say so. See you tomorrow then."

"Yeah," he called after her breathlessly, then bit down on his lip.

 _This is getting out of hand_ , he thought anxiously as he watched MJ go.

~~~

"Who's Frank?" Ned was looking at Peter's phone with brows drawn together. Peter saw the screen light up with the older man's name and text message, and quickly snatched it up.

"Nobody. Just a guy I know." Peter said hastily, wincing mentally at the horrible lie.

"Ah, I see," Ned mumbled unimpressed. He went back to poke at his food, his babbling about his new Lego set forgotten. Peter felt the air around them get heavy with awkwardness he didn't know how to clear up.

Well, there was telling his friends the truth. But MJ wasn't even aware of his hero alterego, and Ned would probably think he was nuts. And then they would probably be hurt. By all the lies, going behind their backs, having to find excuses every Friday not to hang out with them. It felt wrong, though while he spent time with Frank he forgot about the guilt. After leaving though, the guilt was always back.

Peter hated lying so much. Why couldn't he just tell the truth? Oh, right. Because Frank was an actual wanted man.

"Peter?"

He snapped his head up at his friend's concerned tone. Ned's face was soft with worry, looking at him in a mix of confusion and concern.

"Are you okay man? You look so out of it nowadays. When you are not looking at your phone, that is. You are always smiling like a lovesick puppy at that thing." Peter flushed a little at his words. Did he really look like that? "Is this--" Ned shifted closer on the bench to whisper "Is this a hero thing? Are you tired? Are you in trouble? Is this Frank guy bothering you? Or is it Flash? He's been pretty awful lately."

"No-- No, Ned It's not--" Peter sighed and tried to think of what to tell his best friend. Nothing he came up with sounded right. "He's a friend. He...He helped me a lot actually. Saved my life."

Ned's brows drew deeper together "What do you mean?"

"I...got shot."

His friend's eyes grew big, a shocked gasp escaping his mouth. "Gods, Peter, when did that happen?"

"About two months ago," Peter shifted in his seat a little as several people walked by their table. "Frank found me and brought me to his house, patched me up. I ran into him again a few days later and we have been keeping in touch ever since."

"Oh...I'm sorry. I didn't know what to assume. You've just been a little in the clouds these days."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that." Peter grimaced and rubbed the nape of his neck anxiously.

"Does he know who you are?"

"Kind of...he knows that my name is Peter, and he has seen me without the suit."

Ned looked back at him with clearly mixed feelings, seemingly at loss of words, until he finally sighed "I don't know if this is necessarily a good idea, but you must trust him if he knows about your gig."

Peter felt his lips curl into a small smile on their own accord at that "He's a nice guy. Honestly."

His friend spent a few more seconds searching his face, then seemed to have found whatever he had been looking for and nodded resigned. "I will tell MJ she doesn't have to be so butthurt about you cancelling our Friday plans." Peter's stomach dropped a little guiltily. He really didn't mean to make Michelle feel bad at all. Then again, he was kind of known to be awkward. Having good intentions usually didn't cure that. Ned pat his back with a reassuring smile "It's fine Peter. You are allowed to have friends besides us. I know how much this hero thing means to you as well. All I ask is that you talk to me Pete, I want to help you. Deal?"

This helped to calm the young hero considerably, a small grateful smile slowly taking his guilty expression over "Deal."

Whatever had been awkward and weird about the air before, it was gone now. Ned went back to telling Peter about that Lego set, and they agreed to build it together some other day after school.

Everything was fine.

 

~~~

 

Everything seemed to be fine, until both May and Tony started asking questions. Ones Peter couldn't answer without sounding dodgy and weird.

Tony could have checked where he had been and what the cameras in his suit had seen of course, but he respected Peter's privacy. It was more than he deserved if he wanted to be honest with himself. It felt wrong, even so with Tony looking so excited about the summer internship, asking Peter about his projects, helping him to improve things. It was really hard not to feel guilty with all the attention Tony was showering him with lately.

"Kid,"

Peter cursed himself for spacing out again as he snapped out of it and handed Tony another tool whisked up from the messy worktable.

"Are you feeling okay kid?" Tony spared him a glance concealed by a pair of protective goggles as he worked. They were in the process of testing Peter's improvement ideas on his webshooters.

"Y-Yeah, I'm sorry. I was just...thinking."

Tony hissed out as a shock of electricity burned his fingertips and pulled the goggles back from his eyes to frown at the webshooters. He should have put back on his gloves after finishing that doughnut.

"Thinking about what?"

Peter bit his lip and began fiddling with the clutter on the table "I have this friend..."

"This friend," Tony nodded along encouragingly. He saw how hesitant and nervous Peter suddenly looked, though he wasn't sure how to make him feel more at ease. He settled with an open and interested expression.

"I've been spending a lot of time with him lately. Talking, texting. That kind of thing. And...I like him a lot, you know? He's kind and he cares for me. I think he actually likes spending time with me too?"

Tony had this knowing smile already on his face, eyebrows risen "Is that so?"

Peter nodded nervously "Sometimes I kind of want to ask him if he likes me too. But I also don't want to mess things up."

Tony crossed his arms with a thoughtful look, leaning against the table "Maybe I'm not the best person to ask for dating advice here kid. Hell, I've spent way too many years just loving and leaving people before I actually realised my feelings for the amazing woman I'm married to today. Who had been right in front of my face the whole time. But one thing I can say is that if you ask, you'll at least know. If he doesn't feel the same way about you and this person is mature enough, you'll stay friends in the end."

Peter mulled this over, and nodded gratefully "Thanks Tony."

Tony just shrugged and pulled on those discarded gloves to resume their work "Anytime kid. Now come here and help me out. These are your webshooters we are working on afterall."

"Aye Captain!"

They shared identical grins and got blissfully lost in their little bubble as they continued tinkering. Peter felt much better doing so, and for a while he forgot about all his troubles.

 

~~~

 

  
"I don't think I'm doing this right," Peter pouted.

Frank chuckled softly at the slicing board set in front of Peter on the counter. The slices of vegetables he managed to chop up were all misshapen and uneven. It didn't matter too much in terms of how it was going to taste, but Peter sure had a hard time with it.

The older man stepped back from the meat he was cooking on the stofe and inspected Peter's work more closely.

"It's not that bad kid." he offered.

Peter only rolled his eyes and puffed his cheeks out "Right. You are a very bad liar."

Frank only chuckled at Peter's antics "I'm a very good liar, I'll let you know."

"Forget it. This is useless. I'M useless at this." Peter continued to pout sourly, glaring at the board and vegetables like they were his arch nemesis.

Frank had promised to let Peter help around the kitchen while he cooked, but appearantly the young hero wasn't too skilled with knives. Go figure.

"That's not true. Now, let me see how you do it." Frank put the knife back in Peter's hand encouragingly.

The ex soldier watched him chop for a while, judging his technique with critical eyes.

"Not bad,"

"Yeah. Not bad, terrible." Peter huffed.

"It's a little slow and not as effective, but it's not bad." Frank said softly. He pulled the board in front of himself and took the knife from Peter.

"The most important thing is to have a trusty knife. Sharp, sits comfortably in your hand." he took some pepper slices and laid them on top of each other. "The motion and the way you cut the vegetables is important as well." He showed Peter slowly the technique, cutting the pepper into even portions, and then did it with the higher speed he was used to. "Your turn."

He pushed the board back in front of the teen and handed him the knife expectantly. Peter took the knife, though he visibly hesitated.

Frank didn't give it much thought as he moved behind Peter and helped him to adjust his hands.

"You are gripping the handle too tensely. Your grip has to be steady but relaxed." he corrected the way Peter's fingers curled around the hilt, to a position where they seemed to relax more on the handle. "Better?"

"Y-Yeah," Peter said weakly, flexing his fingers.

"Now," Frank reached over to pull more vegetables on the slicing board. They didn't need that much to complete the recepie they were following, but he wanted to teach Peter something at least. He had promised this much afterall. "You hold the vegetables, or whatever you are cutting, with one hand like this," he put Peter's left hand on the neat pile of pepper slices and held it with his own. "And you cut with the other, obviously. But always mind your fingers. You don't want to cut those."

He was pleased to hear Peter chuckle lightly. The teen had been kind of stiff before, but he seemed to be relaxing now.

Frank directed Peter's other hand to the end of the pile and made sure his grip on the knife's handle was right. Then he gently showed him the way he had cut the pepper, in slow but firm motions, all the while moving Peter's other hand to avoid hurting him accidentally.

"See? Not hard at all. You just have to be straight forward and let the knife do most of the work for you."

"I guess you are right," Peter replied uncertainly.

Frank made sure Peter knew the movements by muscle memory well enough before stepping back to let him do it on his own. He seemed to catch up on it too. The next pieces of vegetables he cut up almost effortlessly, hands moving confidently.

"Atta boy, you got it."

Peter's lips slowly stretched into a small smile "Yeah, It really wasn't as hard as I thought. Thanks." The older man felt his heart swell a little at the teen's now bright smile.

"It's one of the most basic things one can learn in a kitchen." he waved it off gently, though it felt good to have Peter around and have him learn a thing or two, even if they were small.

Peter smiled and shook his head "Is the meat ready for the veggies?"

Frank had forgotten about the slowly cooking meat so he checked on it to make sure it wasn't burnt or something. It was fine though, so they dumped the appropriate amount of cut up vegetables into the pan with the cooked meat and seasoned them before putting a lid on the pan. Frank let Peter do most of it, instructing him what to do and how.

"Now we wait. And clean up." Frank told Peter with a smile.

"How long will it take?" Peter asked as he was already picking up dirty knives and other dishes to bring them to the sink, while Frank collected the extra cut up vegetables and put them in the fridge.

"Around an hour or so. We'll check on it in thirty minutes and see if it needs more time."

After cleaning up they sat in the livingroom, Frank sipping a bottle of beer. And now that they weren't cooking anymore, he could tell something was up with Peter. His hands were grabbing his knees as he sat a little hunched over, nibbling on his lower lip and staring straight ahead with brows furrowed. He seemed to be deep in thought.

"Are you alright, Peter?" he set down his beer and sat up straighter. Peter snapped his head up a little startled at that, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. He looked like he had forgotten where he even was for a minute.

"Wha-- Uh Yeah, sure. I'm fine. I was just thinking." the teen chuckled, clearly nervous. Frank didn't want to pry too much, but Peter wasn't usually like this. He didn't know the hero all that well either, but it was worrying.

"Wanna talk about it?" Frank sat a little closer and put a reassuring hand on Peter's shoulder. At least he hoped it was comforting.

Peter exhaled loudly, shoulders slumping further under Frank's hand.  
"It's-- It's stupid...It's really not that big of a deal..."

"It can't be stupid if it bothers you. People tell me talking about these things help. Whatever it is, I would like to hear it." Frank encouraged him, hand moving to rub gentle circles between the teen's shoulders.

Peter turned to look up at him, considering, and then buried his face in his hands and sighed again. Frank rubbed his back slowly, waiting.

"There's this guy at school," Peter finally spoke up, quiet and hesitant "He...He's been saying things about me since we started going to high school. He called me 'Penis Parker' whenever his friends were around, said how lame I was..."

Frank's brows drew together as Peter spoke, lips slowly pulling back in a grimace. He knew that type of kid all too well. He used to be something like that himself.

"It didn't bother me too much you know? I had my friends who loved me, I had the Spider-Man thing going for me. I had Mr Stark as my idol and eventually my mentor. I didn't like the way he talked about me, but I learned to ignore it."

Frank was relieved to hear that he didn't let the bully bring him down and destroy his self confidence. Watching him as the spandex clad hero, it was plain to see that he had plenty of that.

"But...recently he has been...physical," Peter was frowning, cheeks red "He only called me names before, but never came too close. I was really confused when a few weeks ago he pushed me into a locker as he walked past with his friends. I thought it was an accident and he just didn't want to apologise in front of everyone. But then it happened again, and again."

The older man struggled to keep a scowl from forming on his face. The fact that he used to do the same thing to kids like Peter angered him even more.

"I could have avoided it you know? My spidey sense tingled each time. But I'm not a hero at school. I'm just the geek kid." Frank pulled him closer and wrapped his arm around the kid.

"Hey, I know having to deal with punks like that is hard." Frank felt guilty, knowing that he was part of the problem too. "But you were doing the right thing."

Peter exhaled through his nose and bit his lip, eyes shiny, like he was holding back tears. Frank panicked a little, not sure what to do with a crying Peter.

"It's not that...I'm not upset about that. Sure, I don't like being pushed around, but it didn't hurt. It did make me angry after a while, because he just did these things out of the blue. I didn't do anything to him. Not really.... And I told him as much."

"You confronted him?"

"I...Yeah. Something like that..." Peter reached up and wiped an escaping tear off his cheek. Frank held him closer and waited for him to continue. "After gym class we were getting ready to shower. He pushed me against the lockers on his way out, and I just snapped. I shouted at him, asked him what his problem was with me. Why he had to be suck a jerk with me."

Frank felt the teen start to tremble under his fingers, against his side. The older man was torn between being very concerned and angry.

"What happened Peter?" he tried his best to sound not furious. He was struggling with it though.

"I-- I don't know exactly..." Peter was sniffing loudly now, holding back tears and swallowing down sobs as Frank rubbed his shoulder. "I could have stopped him. B-But I froze completely. He grabbed me and pushed me up against the nearest locker." The teen was clearly on the brink of a meltdown by now, voice shaking and hard to decipher.

"Hey, it's okay kid. I'm here." Frank murmured softly, hoping that it was calming. "What happened then?" he asked, because he knew there had to be something left, he was clearly holding back something that deeply bothered him. 

Peter looked up at him, eyes wet and flooded with tears trying to escape, cheeks red and stained, lips wobbling with the effort it took not to lose himself to crying.

"He-- He kissed me Frank. He p-pressed himself on me." Peter grabbed onto Frank's shirt, struggling to form words "A-And I didn't do anything to stop him. Until I did. I pushed him off and ran out. I just ran and ran..."

Peter broke down then, face buried in Frank's shoulder, streams of tears flowing down his cheeks and wetting the older man's clothes and couch. And Frank's heart sank, felt it drop to his stomach. He felt incredibly furious at first, but then his heart began to hurt for the sobbing teen clutching to him desperately.

Frank wrapped his arms around him the best he could and held Peter, as he cried and cried. He rubbed gentle circles into the teen's back, the nape of his neck, and let him cry it out. Eventually Peter's sobs subsided and his hold on Frank's shirt loosened considerably, breaths still coming shallowly, but he sounded less like he was suffocating.

"I-I'm so s-sorry Frank. I never-- I'm such a mess." Peter bit into his lower lip, making it an angry red, refusing to look at Frank as he let go of him and drew back.

Frank was having none of that though. He gently cupped Peter's face in his hand and brought their foreheads together, so the teen had to look at him when he spoke.

"Listen to me," Frank made sure the kid was looking him in the eye. "You have done NOTHING wrong, Peter. The person who should feel shitty right now is that asshole kid." His words were laced with anger, but his fingers brushed against the teen's jaw tenderly, as if afraid to hurt him. As Peter's big brown shiny eyes bore into his, he couldn't help but compare him to a doe. "Have you told anyone about this?"

Peter looked away, and shook his head ever so lightly, "N-No. I didn't think it mattered that much." he admitted in a small voice.

"I'm glad you told me Peter, but at least talk to your aunt about it." Frank told him gently. He wanted someone who could truly comfort him know what happened.

"She would be so angry. She would make a huge deal out of it."

 _It IS a big deal_ , Frank thought, but didn't voice that.

"Someone has to know, Peter." he said instead.

Peter looked into his eyes again, shiny and wet doe eyes. With their faces centimetres apart, Frank could feel the small puffs of air from the teen's nose and mouth on his face. "You know about it."

This sentence alone kind of stole Frank's breath away. It felt like a punch to the gut. Though the older man wasn't sure why it made him feel that way.

 _This kid is going to be the death of me_ , he thought miserably. He couldn't ignore that it also made him feel pleased for some reason.

"Fine," he said to answer the hero's searching expression "But you have to promise me that if he tries anything with you ever again, you will defend yourself. Secret identity or not. Otherwise I'll have to go find and gut that weasel myself."

Most people were scared when they got to see some of Frank's true anger. Peter though, he just nodded and brought up a hand to touch Frank's, still resting on the hero's jaw.

"I promise."

 

~~~

 

With a belly full of warm, homecooked food, Peter felt much better. Though still very exhausted. Confessing all that to Frank had taken a lot out of him, more than he thought it would. Even if it was really relieving to tell someone about it.

It must have shown on him in some way, because Frank offered to let Peter take his bed for the night if he wanted it, instead of going home.

Peter contemplated it, and the more he thought of it, the less he knew what he actually wanted. It was a very alluring offer, not having to struggle into his Spidey suit to web home or take the bus.

At the same time, he felt like it might be better to spend some time on his own, to reflect. Especially after all that emotional baggage he unloaded on Frank. He was still confused too, about his emotions in general.

But in the end, despite his best judgement, he accepted the offer gratefully, because deep down he knew he actually wanted to stay. Even though he knew it probably wasn't the best idea.

He sent a quick text to May saying he was staying at a friend's house. She probably knew it wasn't Ned, since he had never slept over at his house, so it was no use telling her that. He had promised to be as honest with her as possible.

It still made him feel kind of bad, her asking who he was spending so much time with recently when he wasn't with his friends and him not being able to answer directly. He worried what she might think if she knew he was friends with the Punisher of all people. It made him feel guilty because he wanted the people important for him to know that Frank was actually a very nice person.  
But that wasn't likely to happen anytime soon.

Frank gave him some of his own clean clothes to sleep in, which definitely made Peter's heart race. The clothes hang loosely on him, especially the shirt, but in a very comfortable and comforting way. Frank had an extra toothbrush too, which came in handy.

By the time he was ready to go to sleep, he felt about to just fall head first against the bed and faint.

"Are you alright?" Frank asked him before he sent Peter off to bed. All that concern and tenderness he had shown during the afternoon, it was overwhelming in the best ways. Peter felt so grateful for the older man's presence.

"Yeah, sorry for ruining the mood..."

"Hey, you haven't ruined anything. It was nice having you over, and I'm glad you didn't keep those things to yourself." Frank told him gently. Peter bit into his lower lip, resisting the urge to say something stupid.

"Thanks Frank." he said sleepily instead, muffling a yawn with his hand. It wasn't even past ten and he was ready to drop already.

They said their goodnights to each other and Peter left to take the bed in the bedroom, while Frank stayed in the livingroom. He was probably going to sleep on the couch, which didn't sound great to Peter.

He still felt guilty for not going home in the first place, though Frank had offered for him to stay if he wanted. Peter really didn't want to go home at that point, but now he was having second thoughts.

The fact that the sheets smelled like Frank didn't help. Peter pulled the covers fully over his body, curled in a way that he felt pleasantly wrapped up and warm. He pressed his cheek against the pillows and inhaled deeply, warm and tired, but kind of restless at the same time. He felt kind of weird, like ants stirring beneath his skin. He remembered those moments back in the kitchen, when Frank got behind him.

Normally his spidey sense would tingle in alarm, but this time a different kind of tingle made its way down his spine. He could feel the heat radiating off of the older man, or maybe it was just Peter heating up. When Frank took his hands, it was like fire touching his skin, spreading all the way to his cheeks and ears. He could barely form words. It was such a relief to him that Frank hadn't noticed.

Peter felt safe in Frank's arms.

Something he felt rarely with people. Especially with what Flash had done to him, stolen his first kiss. It was unfair. And it made Peter feel disgusted.

Being Spider-Man meant he had to be careful of who he trusted, who he felt safe with. But Frank gave him no reason not to. The way he hugged him and comforted him earlier made Peter's chest warm and fuzzy, despite still feeling upset about that kiss. And now, tangled in the older man's sheets, it was overwhelming. But maybe he just wanted Frank there as well.

Tony's words rang in his head.

"If you ask, you'll at least know."

Did he like Frank more than he should? Probably. Will he tell the older man that? Most likely not. But why did that make him feel so sad all of a sudden?

He chose not to overthink it in said older man's bed.

He shook the thought away and nuzzled deeper into the pillow, sleep tugging at his consciousness. He just needed some rest.

~~~

Frank decided to read a book before bed to clear his mind. He settled back on his couch and tried to concentrate, but the words seemed to blur together. By the time he finished a sentence he couldn't remember how it had begun.

He set the book down in his lap and sighed, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose. He glanced in the direction of his bedroom.

He wondered if Peter could fall asleep okay. He looked really tired. Exhausted both emotionally and physically.

Frank had to keep the bubbling anger at bay whenever he thought about what that asshole had done to Peter. He wished he could have been there to prevent it. Or at least to teach that punk a lesson. Frank knew Peter would never approve of that though.

 _He's too pure_ , Frank mused internally.

If he really concentrated, he could still feel the smooth and warm skin of the young hero's jaw on his fingertips. Frank wondered what that tender skin tasted like. The thought sent a familiar pool of warmth to his belly, making him squirm on the couch. It had been so long since he touched someone like that. The softness of Peter's hand on his own skin surprised Frank, made the warmth in the pit of his stomach feel like lava.

He groaned and refused to give any attention to anything past the hem of his cargo pants. Peter trusted him, one of his very few true friends. He would be so heartbroken and disappointed to know the kind of thoughts the older man was having about him. The way a simple feather like touch had him longing for more.

There was also the never dying guilt of dishonoring the memory of his wife, of his lost family. It was bad enough already that he could hardly remember their voices. It felt like decades since he last heard the sound of their laughter. He missed that so much. He missed them.

"Frank?"

The ex soldier looked up from the book in his lap. The one he hadn't actually been reading for a while now.

Peter standing there in all his sleepy and barefeet glory, dressed in Frank's oversized clothes, hair sticking out in every direction, that was something he couldn't have been prepared for. Neither for the way his stomach fluttered at the sight.

"Hey, shouldn't you be asleep?" Frank put the book aside and sat up.

"Couldn't sleep..." the teen mumbled, looking down at his bare toes.

Frank sighed and stood on legs stiff from sitting for too long "C'mon. I'll warm up some milk for you."

He quickly heated up a mug full of milk for the both of them, sweetened with a bit of honey. They sat at the kitchen table in silence, the only sound being their occasional sips. Every time Frank glanced at the kid's face, his heart squeezed a little painfully. Peter looked tired and haunted, expression tight and pained. Something he recognised from his own reflection.

"Why are you up, Peter?" he asked, words a little slurred from the exhaustion he was feeling as well, voice a deep rumble. Peter took a sip of his milk and rested his head on the palm of his hand.

"I have nightmares," he began quietly, voice barely a whipser. An ambulance car somewhere switched its sirens on. Somebody was dying. Most people didn't think of it much, but that was always Frank's first thought. "Not as regularly as I used to, but I still have them sometimes."

"What do you see?"

Peter looked up from his mug, and then sideways "I think of someone finding my aunt, my friends. Taking them away without me having a chance to save them. I dream of alien invasions, of buildings falling on top of me and squeezing the breath out of me. And I just can't move. I can never move..."

Frank nodded in understanding. He knew how nightmares could torment a person. Somebody as young as Peter having to deal with that, it made Frank wish he could take those dreams away completely.

"I saw that alley once."

Frank frowned confused, to which Peter sighed.

"The one you found me in."

Oh. That alley.

"I see that guy. That kid. He was barely older than me. Holding that gun straight at me, pulling the trigger. And I still couldn't move." Frank saw that Peter was fighting back tears at this point. His lower lip was an angry red from sinking his teeth into it so many times.

Frank reached out and gently put his hand on the teen's clenched fist on the table. He felt the fist loosen under his fingers, slowly coming apart to lay on the surface of the table relaxed. Frank curled his fingers under Peter's hand, rubbing circles on the back with his thumb.

They sat in silence for a while, until they finished their warm drinks. Frank felt a little empty upon retrieving his hand, but Peter looked much better.

"Will you be okay now?" the older man asked once they were back at the couch.

"I think so. Thanks for the milk."

"No problem. I needed it too."

Peter looked at the couch and then back at Frank nervously "Are you sure you want to sleep here?"

Frank shrugged "I've had to sleep in worse places." Much, much worse places. Having to take the couch was nothing compared to laying on a hard floor half awake, waiting for someone to ambush you. Falling asleep to the sound of gunshots and exploisons. The shrill screams of dying men.

"Would you..." Peter fidgeted quite visibly, cheeks slowly turning pink under Frank's attention "Would you like to share the bed instead?"

Frank was rendered speechless once again. All he knew was that his belly filled with warmth and burning acid like guilt at the same time.

"I-It's fine if you don't want to though," Peter babbled breathlessly. "I just thought, well, this couch must be very uncomfortable to sleep on. And your bed is big enough for two people. I'm small and I won't bother you."

Frank really tried to say no. His brain screamed at him to decline the offer as gently as he could muster. But his body and heart thought otherwise. It wanted to be near the young hero. It wanted to be closer to his warmth. And Frank craved that too.

So he agreed. It was a bad idea. One of the worst ideas ever. But he couldn't care less after he had said the words. Peter flashed him that small nervous but happy smile that made him weak. So how could he even be bothered with that at this point?

He changed into something more comfortable and got into bed next to Peter. He knew he shouldn't have agreed to this, with how he was just itching to wrap his arms around the teen and pull him flush against himself. Safe and warm.

"G'night Frank," Peter mumbled against the pillow he lied on, back facing Frank.

"Good night kid," he sighed. It took him some time to fall asleep, lying awake and fully aware of Peter next to him in bed. But after a while he couldn't help but find Peter's even breathing very soothing, and he too fell asleep.

His back didn't hurt the next morning, and Peter looked relatively well rested. They didn't talk about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing O-O But let me know if you'd like to read more?
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated ^^


	5. Chapter 5

Peter swang from building to building, enjoying the pull in his muscles, the way the wind blew in his face. The sun was slowly setting, still somewhat visible even though it was starting to get late. Summer was close around the corner.

He suddenly whipped around before he could shoot the next web as a shrill scream cut through the air. He found the source of the scream in a dodgy looking alley.

Two women were wrestling with a bunch of guys who just laughed at their attempts to get free. Peter was disgusted by them. There was no humor in his voice as he flipped down and called out to them.

"Hey! Douchebags! What do you think you are doing?"

There was five of them, all relatively young, probably in their early and mid twenties, significantly bigger than him. They turned to face Peter with cocky smiles. The women, who were quite young as well, held onto one another, shaking and sobbing.

"None of your business freak," one of the thugs spat "Crawl back into the hole you came out from. Unless you want us to go over you as well after them."

Peter felt his blood boil when they continued fondling the girls like he wasn't even standing there.

"Unhand them now, and I'll consider not calling the cops on you." he gritted out darkly.

"I'd like to see that," the same guy just continued to smirk wolfishly "Leroy!"

Peter's heart skipped a beat as one of men stepped away from the shaking girls and pulled a gun on him.

He was suddenly back in the alley Frank had found him in, moments before that kid pulled the trigger and left him bleeding on the ground. He was shaking lightly, throat squeezing tight as he stared into the barrel of a handgun once again.

But the trembling cries and whimpers of the women brought him back. They were still trying to resist the men grabbing at them and tearing their clothes. And they were looking at him, at Spider-Man, with pleading eyes full of tears, _fighting_ while he just _stood_ in place. A switch clicked in him at the sight.

He was so ready to kick these jerks' asses, the slowly surfacing panic attack forgotten by then. He took a deep breath and got ready to dodge bullets if necessary, instincts kicking in.

He almost knew when the first bullet would come, his spidey sense tingled to alert him. He dodged and jumped, using the walls of the alley to his advantage. When he heard the clip of the gun click empty he lunged for the thugs. He punched the first one, took his gun and threw it far, used strings of webs to knock two against each other, kicked one in the stomach and webbed the last one against the wall.

Once he was sure the men were restrained safely enough he turned to check on the women. They burst into tears and hugged him tightly, thanked him for helping them. Peter stayed to guard the thugs until the police came and helped taking them into custody.

As soon as he left the scene and started to web his way to another city block, the whole thing sank in. He felt as if some kind of weight fell off his shoulders by taking on those guys. The gun wielding one specifically. For a moment he thought fear would take over completely, but it didn't.

He had half a mind to call Frank and tell him about it, but he decided against that. He had kicked gun carrying criminals' asses before. It was nothing unusual. Maybe a bit different now, getting shot definitely did something to him. But he felt better about it now. He didn't freeze when it mattered.

Knowing he was still cut out for the job made him feel lighter as he continued swinging around the city.

Peter smiled to himself and continued his patrol. Friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man would make sure no thugs ran free that night at his place.

 

  
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Peter came across Flash a few days after the incident. Flash flushed a light shade of pink and ignored him as he went past with his friends in the hallway. He made no attempt to touch Peter, couldn't even look him straight in the eye.

The young hero shook his head. He couldn't believe he didn't stand up against him before, out of the fear of hurting him. Flash didn't deserve his worry in any way, he saw that now.

The bully forgotten Peter smirked as he met up with Ned in the cafeteria. They did their signature handshake and sat down to eat in peace. MJ showed up a little later than unusual, earning curious glances from the pair.

"What?" she asked as they just stared at her.

"You never come late," Peter began.

"And you never wear your hair like that," Ned gestured at her neatly combed and styled hair. No messy wild curls sticking out or strands hanging in her face.

Peter almost thought he saw MJ blush, but he didn't think she would be capable of such thing. She did everything shamelessly with upmost confidence. That was something he admired in her a lot. She said the weirdest things without considering them weird. To her they were just facts. And on some level they were.

"Can't a girl change her ways sometimes?" she bit back, clearly annoyed.

Ned didn't back off though, like he normally would. The three of them were friends for quite a while now, and he was much less scared of her. Still scared, but not as scared as before. It was an admiring kind of fear. And a bit scared for his life kind of fear. He was still more confident to push her buttons though.

"Well yeah. But you've never done that before." he just shrugged.

"Is there a reason for it?" Peter pressed on as well.

She must have realised that they were not going to drop it, because she sighed and put the french fry she was going to eat back on her plate.

"Fine. Since you, Parker, wasn't going to ask Anita out, I did."

Ned almost spat out the water he was drinking. Peter would have laughed but he had to pat his friend's back to make sure he wasn't going to choke to death as he swallowed the water hastily. Michelle just rolled her eyes at their shocked expressions.

"What did she say?" Ned croaked, still coughing franatically while Peter kept patting his back, nodding along to the question.

"She said yes. I'm taking her to the bowling alley this Friday after school."

Peter and Ned both highfived a smirking MJ.

"Sorry Ned, our Friday plans are off."

Ned just smiled and waved the apology away "Don't sweat it. Your date is much more important."

"You are not upset Peter, are you? I know you had a thing for her."

Peter had to smile at her question. It was sweet of her to ask, but not necessary. He stopped crushing on Anita months ago.

"Don't worry MJ. Go get her."

Michelle smiled at both of her firends before they went back to eat, like nothing had happened.

 

  
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Tony asked Peter to visit his office in New York, which made the young hero feel quite anxious. Tony rarely used that office for anything anymore, which meant he went out of his way to be there. Peter's first thought was that he somehow found out about Frank. But that quickly dispersed, as soon as he got a chance to talk to the billionare.

"Are you sure you want me there, Tony?" Peter frowned at the invitation his mentor just shoved into his hands. It was for a fancy party, something he definitely thought was way out of his league.

"Yes, Peter. If you want to work with me in the future, you best see how business works in social circles. It's not gonna be just the two of us, don't worry. Pepper and Happy are coming too."

The teen bit his lip nervously. He knew what the older man was telling him made sense. He truly wanted to work with Tony in the future, and he obviously wasn't a social butterfly. Awkward fit him better. Crowds and social events, public appearances weren't his thing.

He sighed resigned "You are right. What should I wear for this thing?"  
Tony grinned and clasped his shoulder happily "Don't worry about that! I'll have something tailored for you."

"Thanks Tony." Peter smiled nervously. He followed his mentor to the lounging area and joined him on the couch.

"Now that this is out of the way, tell me. How are things? Your aunt fares well?"

The teen shrugged "She's good. I'm good. I haven't ruined the suit you gave me. That's good right?"

"Yes, that's very good." Tony shook his head amused "Have you taken your tests?

"Yeah, I have. I think I did okay. Essay writing isn't my forte but I tried my best."

The older man nodded satisfied. "Very good. I'll have no problem buttering you up at the dean then, next week when I visit the Empire State University for a presentation and a bit of funding charity." he smirked.

"Tony, you really don't have to do this stuff for me." Peter shook his head. He didn't want to take away somebody's chance if he wasn't going to be accepted by choice anyway.

"I want to help you Peter," Tony put a hand on his shoulder "You are smart and resourceful enough for Empire State. I'll just let the dean know what I think."

The compliment made him feel better, though he still didn't agree wholly with what Tony wanted to do.

"Tell you what, I'll let you in on a secret," Peter leaned in closer curiously as Tony brought his voice down, barely over a whisper. It was playful and dumb but he played along. "I was put on a waitlist when I applied for school. My father had to make sure I got in." Tony whispered.

Peter was genuinely shocked, a ghasp escaping him "Woah. For real? You are totally messing with me." He eyed the man suspiciously, who only shrugged and smiled in amusement.

"Believe what you will Peter, but I had issues back then. Well, I still have issues. But I had different kind of issues, mostly with my father. Anyway. He was pissed, and that pleased me to an extent, but I shouldn't have put my education on the line just to mess with him. I want to make sure you have no problem getting the education you deserve kid. Everyone has the right to learn and grow."

Peter mulled this over, appreciating that Tony shared his experiences with him. He still wasn't comfortable with the whole thing, but one good word wouldn't hurt anyone.

"Alright," he sighed "But just a fleeting mention, if you really want to. Don't make it sound like they must take me just because you said so. I still don't think you should though."

"Really?" the older man frowned "Okay fine. As you wish." He messed up Peter's hair a little, ignoring his protests as he stood up and adjusted his expensive suit. "I have to go kid. Stark Industries business to attend to. I just wanted to make sure you are coming to the gala."

Peter pouted a little but stood as well "I'm going. Will I have to dance? I can't dance."

Tony looked incredulous for a moment, but then chuckled lightly and wrapped the young hero in a brief embrace. He was still smiling when he drew back, the wrinkles around his eyes prominent.

"You won't have to dance, don't worry. I'll send your suit over next week so you can try it on and let me know if it fits well." Peter nodded, slightly embarrassed by his own comment, but smiled at his mentor anyway.

They waited by the elevators together. Tony was going up to a waiting jet, Peter was going down to take the bus. Tony offered a lift but Peter declined politely. He was going to Ned's house and didn't want any hustle.

"See you around kid. Take care of yourself. And your aunt." Tony told him when both of their lifts arrived.

"You too Tony."

 

 

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Frank huffed amused when Peter scooted closer on the couch to grip his arm, as the heroine flung herself over the railing of the ship and landed on the floor below.

He had to admit the movie freaked him out a little bit as well. It started out weird and only got weirder as time went on. Filled him with unease, a kind of fear most human beings experience on some level. The fear of likeness and being attacked by something that's remarkably similar to us. It's like the fear of human looking robots, entities that act human, act and look like us when they shouldn't.

Or something like that. It was just freaky okay?

Having Peter pressed up against his side made it bearable though, in fact, more than bearable. Plus he was actually curious to see how it would end. Even though he had technically already seen it.

When the credits started rolling he sat there speechless, trying to process what he had just seen happen. Peter detangled himself shyly and let Frank take his time, smiling amused.

"It was pretty cool huh?" he smirked cheekily.

"It was...something all right." Frank shook his head "My brain hurts."

"Yeah I know. It's pretty insane, but also very cool. Always gives me the chills though, I don't know why."

"I get the feeling. I don't like the thought of someone looking like me running around to hunt me."

"Precisely," Peter stood to stretch, oblivious to Frank's maybe too long glance at the way his shirt rode up to reveal his flat and toned abdomen. The teen let out a deep sigh as he checked the time on his phone. "I guess I should be on my way soon,"

Frank frowned at the way his brows drew together, eyes sad and tired looking. "Is there something wrong kid?"

"I'm fine. I mean- Not really, but it's not like I have a choice you know." Peter sat back down heavily, shoulders sagged.

"What do you mean you don't have a choice? You always have a choice Peter,"

"Yeah well, the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man doesn't get to choose, does he?"

Frank was slightly taken aback by his bitter tone. He couldn't recall a time he heard Peter talk so tired before. He put a hand on the younger man's shoulder and felt how tense his whole body was.

"Hey, kid, what's wrong? You don't want to go on patrol? Is that it?" Frank murmured softly.

"I...I don't know. I mean, yeah, I guess I'm really not in the mood right now. I'm tired and snappy and I'm sorry that I'm acting so much like a jerk. Some time off would be nice...but I have responsibilities."

"Peter, you deserve a break too every now and then. I don't want you to get hurt because you refused to take care of yourself." Frank squeezed his shoulder gently.

Peter bit into his lip, shifting on the couch ever so slightly "I would like some more down time. I'm just not sure I can do that. People count on me."

It was Frank's turn to grimace at the hero's words. Peter was a good person, someone people trusted and could turn to with their problems. But it didn't mean that he had to be on his feet all the time, ready to spring into action.

"I know you want to help people. But you have a life of your own. You should be able to live it the way you want. Special abilities or not. Think of it this way; the more well rested and healthy you are, the better you do out there."

Frank watched the teen curiously as he mulled it over silently, chewing on his bottom lip. Maybe he focused a little too much on his lips. He startled a little when Peter turned to look up at him. They were sitting so close together now, he hadn't even realised that until now. His hand was now rubbing Peter's arm, trying to ease away the tension.

From this close he could see the different hues of brown in Peter's eyes, that intelligent spark he admired so much in the hero. Peter was looking at him too, looking closely. Frank would have felt self conscious about his scars, the bump in his nose from when it got broken (several times), the hard lines of his face.

But he was lost already, too lost to think about anything else other than how much he wished there wasn't that distance between them. That he could close this distance and feel the smoothness of Peter's skin under his fingers again. The thought made his belly warm, and he knew this was dangerous territory.

But neither of them moved for a long time, not until Peter finally spoke up.

"I think...--" he started carefully, voice slightly heavier than before "I think I can let it go for tonight."

"Yeah?" Frank rumbled back. He could feel Peter's body respond subtly to his voice.

Peter nodded, and Frank only then noticed the light pink splotches on his cheeks. They only made his face look softer.

"I want to stay, i-if that's cool."

Frank agreed, of course he agreed. How could he not? At that point, there was no way he could deny Peter anything. Besides. He liked Peter there, with him, knowing that he was safe. "Call your aunt, tell her that you'll be coming late." he added though.

Peter looked down then, cheeks turning redder than before "You know, um, I was wondering if I could stay the night? I-It's fine if not. I understand."

"You can," the words were out before Frank could think of them more, consequences be damned. It was worth it though, seeing Peter's face light up and a beautiful smile take over the frown that really didn't suit the teen.

"Thank you," Peter smiled as they drew back a bit. Frank missed the closeness, but if he made the young hero feel better, it didn't matter. He watched silently as Peter left to make a quick call and came back looking much lighter.

"Wanna see another movie?" he asked.

So they watched another movie. It was an animated film, something about dragons and vikings and hatred and misunderstandings. Peter fell asleep halfway through, head resting on Frank's shoulder, arms curled around the older man's bicep. Frank could hardly stay awake until the end of the movie himself, though he watched the whole thing because it was actually really sweet. He remembered his kids talking about it and now that he saw it, he thought it was rather nice. Maybe having Peter curled against him contributed to that.

He gently shook Peter awake when the film ended, watching with amusement as the teen slowly came to, sleepy and confused.

"Wha-- I fell asleep?" he slurred, still not quite there "I'm so sorry Frank. I must have been really tired." he muffled a yawn with the back of his hand for good measure, letting go of Frank.

The older man only shook his head smiling "Don't apologise. You needed that. It would be best to sleep in an actual bed though." Peter nodded along to what he was saying, closing his laptop on the table.

"Are you coming to bed with me?" he mumbled sleepily.

Frank's heart did a flip at that, knowing that he should really say no and just sleep on the couch. But like before, he found it hard to say no. So he didn't.

He waited for Peter to change and brush his teeth and then did the same. By the time he was ready for bed Peter was already under the covers. He switched off the lights and climbed under the blanket as well. He felt drowsy, his whole body heavy. He was just about ready to sleep when he felt the teen move on the bed, scooting closer to him.

"Frank?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you hold me?"

Frank felt way too tired to think of objections to that, not that he actually wanted to. He just moved blindly towards the middle of his bed until his body found Peter's. He reached out and put his arms around the younger man's waist, the two of them snug against each other.

"G'night Frank," he heard Peter mumble, felt his hand resting on his own. He felt warm, like it was something he should have done a long time ago.

"Good night Peter."

 

  
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The morning after wasn't as awkward as Peter expected it to be. The whole thing went kind of unsaid, like the last time they shared a bed. He felt embarrassed for asking Frank to hold him, but he didn't regret it. It felt too good. To have the man's strong arms around him, his warmth envelope him.

He wondered if Frank enjoyed it too.

He wasn't going to ask though. He was way too scared to just bring it up. He might say other stupid things, like how he felt so safe in his arms, how much he loved the faint smell of his cologne stuck on the sheets. How much he wished he could sleep like that every night.

No. That would be stupid, he had to keep reminding himself.

It was hard, with how sweet Frank acted with him, took care of him without having to ask. And he just looked fond and willing while he did it. He wouldn't let Peter feel guilt for any of it. It felt good. Too good.

Peter would be ashamed to admit it, but for a while now he pleasured himself thinking of the older man. His deep rumbling voice, his strength, his gentle but still work calloused hands on his skin, the way he cared for him. It was enough to undo Peter in seconds when he had pent up frustrations. He would feel ashamed each time it would be over so soon if it didn't feel incredible as well.

So yeah. He was in deep shit. And he knew that.

The chances of any of his fantasies becoming true were zero in his mind. He was happy with what they had, and he tried to focus on that. For his and Frank's sake as well. He knew the ex soldier would be so disappointed and uncomfortable if he knew the kinds of things Peter made up in his head.

He didn't want that. He never wanted to disappoint him, he adored the man too much already.

 

  
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The suit came a few nights before the gala.

May squealed in delight when he tried it in on. It fit perfectly, even came with a black polished dressing shoe in his size. The whole getup made him look kind of mature. May kept taking pictures of him, which was a bit annoying but he wasn't going to voice that. He just let her do her thing.

On the night of the event he showered, dressed up nicely and did his best to comb his hair. May had to help him with that. More pictures were taken before he finally left. Happy drove him to the Stark Tower, where he met up with Tony and Pepper already waiting there. The couple looked posh in their tailored suit and dress, expensive watch and jewelleries.

Looking at them, Peter had doubts about his own presence. It must have shown because Pepper smiled sweetly at him and embraced him briefly as a way of greeting.

"Peter, you look really good in that suit. I knew it was the right colour choice for you."

Peter blushed and returned the smile "Thanks Pepper. It's very comfortable."

"You look nice kid," Tony sounded like he wanted ruffle his hair, but kept his hands to himself. Peter was grateful for that. He wasn't sure if he would be able to restore his hair to its previous state if he did.

"It's time to go people," Happy announced importantly.

Peter piled in with the adults at the back of the car they were taking to the gala, sending Frank a quick text to update him on things. He had told him about the party and how nervous he felt about it. He had told Ned too, but he wasn't as honest about his feelings with him as he was with Frank.

The gala was held at a fancy hotel's restaurant, the room organised so that the guests could walk around, mingle and talk in groups, while also take seats and have dinner. The man who let the four of them in looked at Peter doubtfully, but acknowledged that he was with Tony and gave them no grief. It didn't feel good though, as far as Peter was concerned.

This didn't occupy Peter's mind for too long though, he had to focus on other things. Everyone knew Tony, so naturally a lot of people came to greet him and have a chat with him. Politicians, businessmen, lawyers, scientists, doctors, celebrities, even royalties. It was slightly overwhelming to Peter, who did his best to listen to everything said. Tony introduced him as his associate, which came as quite the surprise. It warmed Peter nevertheless, gave him a bit more confidence as they talked to guests. As soon as the subject of science came up, he forgot to feel nervous. Instead he talked enthusiastically about the latest findings and research he read online and Tony shared with him.

Happy and Pepper didn't stand a chance when Tony and Peter started a hearty discussion with a Nobel prize winning nuclear scientist. They excused themselves and mingled on their own, promising to rejoin them later.

"I don't know about you but I'm hungry," Tony said when the discussion ended. A lot of people were sitting at tables now, significantly less were still talking and standing.

"You know I can always eat." Peter grinned.

Tony chuckled at that fondly "Yeah, I know. Come on, let's find our table."

Pepper and Happy were already sitting at their table, talking to two strangers. The strangers were an older looking and a young man, somewhere around Peter's age. They wore very expensive looking suits, not the slighthest bit out of place, not even the teen. He looked comfortable in a way Peter didn't, like he did this often enough to feel at home.

"Tony, finally. I was just about to call you," Pepper said when she spotted the two of them. "This is Norman Osborn and his son, Harry Osborn." Father and son both stood to shake hands, much to his surprise, Peter's hand too.

"Tony Stark," he said as they shook hands, "and this is my associate, Peter Parker." he introduced Peter as well.

"Pleasure to meet you," the older Osborn smiled politely once they withdrew. "We were just about to leave and find our own table. Wouldn't want to intrude on your dinner, right son?"

"Of course," Harry agreed.

"No need, stay," Pepper said kindly "I'm sure nobody would mind if you ate here instead."

"There are enough seats for all of us," Tony backed her up immediately. Peter mostly just stood and watched the encounter happen.

"Well, in that case, I would be glad to dine with you. Is that alright with you son?"

"Very much so." the younger man agreed easily.

So they stayed. Norman switched seats so that Tony could sit next to his wife, and Peter sat between Happy and Harry. The staff was informed about the change of arrangements, but they weren't surprised. Things like that happened often enough, so it didn't cause any trouble.

And Peter enjoyed dinner a lot more than he would have thought he would. The food was incredible of course, he had to remind himself to keep it civil and eat slowly like the rest of the table. The talk was a lot of business between the two billionares, which evolved into both of them bragging about Harry's education and achievments in sports, and Peter's education and scientific knowledge. It was kind of flattering for Peter, because Tony gloated about him like he was his own son.

And Harry was nice, he guessed. More down to earth than he would have guessed from looking at him. Because Harry was obviously more used to settings like that gala, and he wore his suit like it was a second skin. He was taller and much more mature looking than Peter, despite being just as young as the hero, as it turned out. He was good looking and charming, very pleasant company. The two of them talked while the adults conversed about topics neither of them were very interested in.

"Your father said you went to high school abroad. How was that?" Peter asked, proud of himself for remembering this much for smalltalk.

"It was an experience. I went to a private school with mostly English speaking people, so it wasn't like I had to study that much differently. I made interesting friends, saw new places, ate new food. Overall it was good. But I missed New York you know?" Peter smiled and nodded. If he left he would have missed the city too. "Mr Stark said you plan on going to Empire State University."

"Uh, yeah. I'll be majoring in computer science and working with Tony on his personal projects as an assistant. It's like a dream come true really, he's been my idol since I can remember."

"It must be great to work with your idol."

"It is, I still can't believe it sometimes. I used to read his papers, and now he's my mentor." Peter smiled fondly, looking at the man in question across the table. Tony caught it and returned his smile with a bit of confusion, then turned his attention back on Mr Osborn.

"How did the two of you meet?"

Peter's smile froze on his face for a moment. They hadn't discussed that detail with Tony. Should he make up something or just dodge the question? He supposed the former shouldn't be too much trouble. Right?

"I applied for a scholarship to fund a project of mine. He looked into it for some reason, and called on me personally and said he liked it a lot. We worked on the project together after that and kept working together ever since."

"He must have had a reason to pick you as his assistant," Harry said absently "I heard Mr Stark always has a reason, no matter how strange his actions seem."

The topic made Peter feel slightly uncomfortable, so they talked about something else. At some point the conversation shifted to heroes and whether Peter got to meet any of the Avengers before. He lied that he didn't know any of them personally.

"Uh, Spider-Man?" Peter stammered "I know about him, yeah."

"I hear he shoots webs from his ankles," Harry laughed lightly. "Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?"

Peter actually got a bit flustered at that. "Tony says he has webshooters. He doesn't produce web like an actual spider."

"Really? That's fascinating," Harry mused "I don't supposed you know him personally?"

"No, sadly I don't."

Peter was starting to feel really uneasy. He excused himself to the bathroom and left the table with hurried steps. He washed his face at the sink and frowned at his reflection. As much as he tried, he wasn't enjoying the night as much as he wanted to.

In fact, he enjoyed it less and less. Harry seemed nice, but even with his charm Peter just felt like a sore thumb at that table. He texted Frank, who called him soon after.

"Hey," he mumbled into the phone.

"Are you okay Peter?" Frank's voice helped to relax him a little, but he still didn't feel great.

Peter sighed, leaning against the sink with his arms folded in a self soothing way "I don't know...This whole thing isn't as bad as I thought it would be, but I really don't belong here."

"Do you want to go home?"

Peter bit his lip and nodded, then remembered that he was on the phone and sighed a faint 'yes'.

"I don't want to seem rude though."

"Say that you don't feel well or something. You are a smart kid Peter, think on your feet. I'm sure it'll be fine."

"You are right. Thanks Frank." Peter felt much better now. It was kind of funny, how a simple mundane phonecall with the man made such a big difference. "Is everything okay with you?"

"I'm the same as usual. Don't worry about me kid. I'd worry more that if you stay longer, they are going to think you weren't just taking a leak."

"Oh shoot, you are right! See you later Frank!" Peter hastily hung up and made himself look presentable before exiting the bathroom.

"Everything alright Pete? You were gone for a while." Tony said as Peter rejoined the table.

"I'm not feeling too good to be honest."

"Oh dear," Pepper looked worried as she searched his face for any sign of pain "Happy can drive you home if you don't feel up to staying Peter."

"I can?" Happy asked a little annoyed.

"No, it's fine. I can manage on my own." Peter reassured them.

"Don't be silly Peter," Tony chided gently "I won't let you take the bus feeling sick."

"I can ask our driver to take you, he won't mind." Mr Osborn offered with a gentle smile directed at the young man.

"Good idea Dad. I was going to excuse myself from the party, but this way I can go with Peter and make sure he gets home alright."

"Very generous of you, right Tony?"

Nobody could argue with Pepper, Peter knew that much already. Tony seemed worried but agreed as well "Very generous indeed. Well, I'm sorry you couldn't stay longer Peter. I'll be checking on you tomorrow, expect my call."

"Sure. It was very nice meeting you Mr Osborn, thank you for your offer." Peter stood and shook the man's hand.

"Don't thank me young man. I just hope it's nothing serious."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," Peter said to reassure everyone around the table.

"It was nice to meet you, Mrs Pots, Mr Hogan, Mr Stark," Harry stood as well to accommodate Peter "See you at home Dad."

"Good night, I hope you'll be alright Peter." Pepper said, still very much worried. Peter loved that about her, that she was so caring, and not just because Tony was his mentor.

He felt slightly awkward though, as soon as he left with the younger Osborn. That wasn't anything new, he was used to not doing well with strangers, just something made him feel slightly on edge. They didn't talk much as they got into the car waiting for them.

"Are you okay? Is it any better now?" Harry asked after a while. He sounded sincere, which made Peter feel a bit guilty for ignoring him.

"Y-Yeah. My stomach's just upset, that's all. I must have eaten something my digestive system doesn't like."

"Do you want a battle of water or anything?" Peter just shook his head in answer. He wished Harry would stop acting so nice when he was faking feeling sick.

When the car came to a halt in front of Peter's apartment building, Harry turned to him. "Well, I'm sure Mr Stark probably has you covered already, but here," he handed Peter a card "That's my personal number. Give me a call or text me if you ever need anything."

"Yeah, thanks Harry." Peter smiled "Good night."

"Good night Peter."

As soon as the car disappeared with the younger Osborn sitting inside, Peter felt like he could breathe again. He loosened the tie around his neck and popped a few of his shirt buttons open while he waited for the elevator in the building.

May was already in bed when he entered their apartment, so he did his best to move around soundlessly. Once in his room he quickly stripped off the fancy suit and hanged it in his wardrobe as nicely as he could muster. Finally, it felt like thigs were back to normal.

At first he considered going on patrol, but then thought about it more and decided it was best to get some rest instead. He sent a quick text to wish Frank good night and snuggled up in his bed comfortably.

Spider-Man deserved a good night's sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is all over the place. But I hope you still enjoyed it :D Originally I just wanted to make the whole Peter/Frank thing happen but now that I'm actually writing it I don't want to make it feel too rushed. I probably put way too much thought into this. Anywho.
> 
> Let me know if you'd like to read more, down in the comments, and I shall write more :3
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated as always ^^


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